My Heart Leaps At The Trumpet's Voice.

The Peacock In All His Pride Does Not Display Half The Colors That Appear In The Garments Of A British Lady When She Is Dressed.

The Intelligence Of Affection Is Carried On By The Eye Only; Good-breeding Has Made The Tongue Falsify The Heart, And Act A Part Of Continued Restraint, While Nature Has Preserved The Eyes To Herself, That She May Not Be Disguised Or Misrepresented.

Artificial Intelligence Will Never Be A Match For Natural Stupidity.

It Generally Takes Its Rise Either From An Ill-will To Mankind, A Private Inclination To Make Ourselves Esteemed, An Ostentation Of Wit, And Vanity Of Being Thought In The Secrets Of The World; Or From A Desire Of Gratifying Any Of These Dispositions Of Mind In Those Persons With Whom We Converse.

Wine Heightens Indifference Into Love, Love Into Jealousy, And Jealousy Into Madness. It Often Turns The Good-natured Man Into An Idiot, And The Choleric Into An Assassin. It Gives Bitterness To Resentment, It Makes Vanity Insupportable, And Displays Every Little Spot Of The Soul In Its Utmost Deformity.