He That Has Too Much To Do

Such Is The State Of Every Age, Every Sex, And Every Condition: All Have Their Cares, Either From Nature Or From Folly; And Whoever, Therefore, Finds Himself Inclined To Envy Another, Should Remember That He Knows Not The Real Condition Which He Desires To Obtain, But Is Certain That By Indulging A Vicious Passion, He Must Lessen That Happiness Which He Thinks Already Too Sparingly Bestowed.

It Is Not The Desire Of New Acquisitions, But The Glory Of Conquests, That Fires The Soldier's Breast; As Indeed The Town Is Seldom Worth Much, When It Has Suffered The Devastations Of A Siege.

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions.

Riches Are Of No Value In Themselves; Their Use Is Discovered Only In That Which They Procure.

Being Married To Those Sleepy-souled Women Is Just Like Playing At Cards For Nothing: No Passion Is Excited And The Time Is Filled Up. I Do Not, However, Envy A Fellow One Of Those Honeysuckle Wives For My Part, As They Are But Creepers At Best And Commonly Destroy The Tree They So Tenderly Cling About.