The Uncertainty Of Death Is, In Effect,

Words Become Low By The Occasions To Which They Are Applied, Or The General Character Of Them Who Use Them; And The Disgust Which They Produce Arises From The Revival Of Those Images With Which They Are Commonly United.

He Was So Generally Civil, That Nobody Thanked Him For It.

I Remember A Passage In Goldsmith's "vicar Of Wakefield," Which He Was Afterwards Fool Enough To Expunge: "i Do Not Love A Man Who Is Zealous For Nothing.

Life Protracted Is Protracted Woe.

I Had Done All That I Could, And No Man Is Well Pleased To Have His All Neglected, Be It Ever So Little.