He Who Loveth A Book Will Never

The Reading Of Books, What Is It But Conversing With The Wisest Men Of All Ages And All Countries.

Shall We Keep Our Hands In Our Bosom, Or Stretch Ourselves On Our Beds Of Laziness, While All The World About Us Is Hard At Work, In Pursuing The Designs Of Its Creation?

Nature Has Concatenated Our Fortunes And Affections Together With Indissoluble Bands Of Mutual Sympathy.

If We Desire To Live Securely, Comfortably, And Quietly, That By All Honest Means We Should Endeavor To Purchase The Good Will Of All Men, And Provoke No Man's Enmity Needlessly; Since Any Man's Love May Be Useful, And Every Man's Hatred Is Dangerous.

He That Loveth A Book Will Never Want A Faithful Friend, A Wholesome Counsellor, A Cheerful Companion, An Effectual Comforter. By Study, By Reading, By Thinking, One May Innocently Divert And Pleasantly Entertain Himself, As In All Weathers, So In All Fortunes.