Writing In The Incurable Itch That Possesses

Every Great House Is Full Of Haughty Servants.

Rarely They Rise By Virtue's Aid Who Lie Plunged In The Depth Of Helpless Poverty.

Many Commit The Same Crime With A Very Different Result. One Bears A Cross For His Crime; Another A Crown.

Rare Indulgence Produces Greater Pleasure.

They Whose Sole Bliss Is Eating Can Give But That One Brutish Reason Why They Live.