But What Can A Man See Of

Friendship, "the Wine Of Life," Should, Like A Well-stocked Cellar, Be Continually Renewed; And It Is Consolatory To Think, That Although We Can Seldom Add What Will Equal The Generous First Growths Of Our Youth, Yet Friendship Becomes Insensibly Old In Much Less Time Than Is Commonly Imagined, And Not Many Years Are Required To Make It Mellow And Pleasant.

People, I Just Want To Say, You Know, Can We All Get Along? Can We Get Along? Can We Stop Making It, Making It Horrible For The Older People And The Kids? A Man Cannot Know Himself Better Than By Attending To The Feelings Of His Heart And To His External Actions, From Which He May With Tolerable Certainty Judge "what Manner Of Person He Is." I Have Therefore Determined To Keep A Daily Journal.

Boswell, When He Speaks Of His Life Of Johnson, Calls It My Magnum Opus, But It May More Properly Be Called His Opera, For It Is Truly A Composition Founded On A True Story, In Which There Is A Hero With A Number Of Subordinate Characters, And An Alternate Succession Of Recitative And Airs Of Various Tone And Effect, All However In Delightful Animation.

I Think There Is A Blossom About Me Of Something More Distinguished Than The Generality Of Mankind.

A Companion Loves Some Agreeable Qualities Which A Man May Possess, But A Friend Loves The Man Himself.