My Diseases Are An Asthma And A

Ease, A Neutral State Between Pain And Pleasure ... If It Is Not Rising Into Pleasure Will Be Falling Towards Pain.

Life Will Not Bear Refinement. You Must Do As Other People Do.

If The Guardian Or The Mother Tell The Woes Of Willful Waste, Scorn Their Counsel And Their Pother, You Can Hang Or Drown At Last.

A Man Guilty Of Poverty Easily Believes Himself Suspected.

But It Is Evident, That These Bursts Of Universal Distress Are More Dreaded Than Felt; Thousands And Ten Thousands Flourish In Youth, And Wither In Age, Without The Knowledge Of Any Other Than Domestic Evils, And Share The Same Pleasures And Vexa­tions, Whether Their Kings Are Mild Or Cruel, Whether The Armies Of Their Country Pursue Their Enemies Or Retreat Before Them.