A Dying Man Can Do Nothing Easy.

It Was Said Of Him That He Did Not Say Much, But That When He Did Everyone Stopped To Listen.

If I Knew A Miser, Who Gave Up Every Kind Of Comfortable Living, All The Pleasure Of Doing Good To Others, All The Esteem Of His Fellow-citizens, And The Joys Of Benevolent Friendship, For The Sake Of Accumulating Wealth. Poor Man, Said I, You Pay Too Much For Your Whistle.

We Are A Kind Of Posterity In Respect To Them.

We Can Defer, Yet Time Is Most Certainly Not.

The Securest Place Is A Prison Cell, But There Is No Liberty