I Am Content; That Is A Blessing

When I'm Not Thanked At All, I'm Thanked Enough.

Habit Hath So Vast A Prevalence Over The Human Mind That There Is Scarce Anything Too Strange Or Too Strong To Be Asserted Of It. The Story Of The Miser Who, From Long Accustoming To Cheat Others, Came At Last To Cheat Himself, And With Great Delight And Triumph Picked His Own Pocket Of A Guinea To Convey To His Hoard, Is Not Impossible Or Improbable.

To The Composition Of Novels And Romances, Nothing Is Necessary But Paper, Pens, And Ink, With The Manual Capacity Of Using Them.

There Is A Sort Of Knowledge Beyond The Power Of Learning To Bestow, And This Is To Be Had In Conversation; So Necessary Is This To The Understanding The Characters Of Men, That None Are More Ignorant Of Them Than Those Learned Pedants Whose Lives Have Been Entirely Consumed In Colleges And Among Books; For However Exquisitely Human Nature May Have Been Described By Writers The True Practical System Can Be Learned Only In The World.

Domestic Happiness Is The End Of Almost All Our Pursuits, And The Common Reward Of All Our Pains. When Men Find Themselves Forever Barred From This Delightful Fruition, They Are Lost To All Industry, And Grow Careless Of All Their Worldly Affairs. Thus They Become Bad Subjects, Bad Relations, Bad Friends, And Bad Men.