The Sinews Of War Are Infinite Money.

To Some Extent I Liken Slavery To Death.

The Harvest Of Old Age Is The Recollection And Abundance Of Blessing Previously Secured.

Let Us Assume That Entertainment Is The Sole End Of Reading; Even So I Think You Would Hold That No Mental Employment Is So Broadening To The Sympathies Or So Enlightening To The Understanding. Other Pursuits Belong Not To All Times, All Ages, All Conditions; But This Gives Stimulus To Our Youth And Diversion To Our Old Age; This Adds A Charm To Success, And Offers A Haven Of Consolation To Failure. Through The Night-watches, On All Our Journeyings, And In Our Hours Of Ease, It Is Our Unfailing Companion.

Habit Is, As It Were, A Second Nature. [lat., Consuetudo Quasi Altera Natura Effici.]

Favours Out Of Place I Regard As Positive Injuries.