For Men Use, If They Have An

As For Rosemary, I Let It Run All Over My Garden Walls, Not Only Because My Bees Love It But Because It Is The Herb Sacred To Remembrance And To Friendship, Whence A Sprig Of It Hath A Dumb Language.

The Times Are Never So Bad But That A Good Man Can Make Shift To Live In Them.

Every Man Has By The Law Of Nature A Right To Such A Waste Portion Of The Earth As Is Necessary For His Subsistence.

Pride Measures Prosperity Not By Her Own Advantages But By The Disadvantages Of Others. She Would Not Even Wish To Be A Goddess Unless There Were Some Wretches Left Whom She Could Order About And Lord It Over, Whose Misery Would Make Her Happiness Seem All The More Extraordinary, Whose Poverty Can Be Tormented And Exacerbated By A Display Of Her Wealth. This Infernal Serpent, Pervading The Human Heart, Keeps Men From Reforming Their Lives, Holding Them Back Like A Suckfish.

In Utopia, Where Every Man Has A Right To Everything, They All Know That If Care Is Taken To Keep The Public Stores Full, No Private Man Can Want Anything; For Among Them There Is No Unequal Distribution, So That No Man Is Poor, None In Necessity; And Though No Man Has Anything, Yet They Are All Rich; For What Can Make A Man So Rich As To Lead A Serene And Cheerful Life, Free From Anxieties.