Many Of Our Cares Are But A

Necessity--thou Best Of Peacemakers, As Well As Surest Prompter Of Invention.

One Hour Of Life, Crowded To The Full With Glorious Action, And Filled With Noble Risks, Is Worth Whole Years Of Those Mean Observances Of Paltry Decorum, In Which Men Steal Through Existence, Like Sluggish Waters Through A Marsh, Without Either Honor Or Observation.

Honour Is A Homicide And A Bloodspiller, That Gangs About Making Frays In The Street; But Credit Is A Decent Honest Man, That Sits At Hame And Makes The Pat Play.

Ridicule Often Checks What Is Absurd, And Fully As Often Smothers That Which Is Noble.

Sleep The Sleep That Knows Not Breaking, Morn Of Toil, Nor Night Of Waking.