O! How Short A Time Does It

While We All Desire To Live Long, We Have All A Horror Of Being Old!

I Have This Very Moment Finished Reading A Novel Called The Vicar Of Wakefield [by Oliver Goldsmith].... It Appears To Me, To Be Impossible Any Person Could Read This Book Through With A Dry Eye And Yet, I Don't Much Like It.... There Is But Very Little Story, The Plot Is Thin, The Incidents Very Rare, The Sentiments Uncommon, The Vicar Is Contented, Humble, Pious, Virtuous--but Upon The Whole The Book Has Not At All Satisfied My Expectations.

Falsehood Is Not More Unjustifiable Than Unsafe.

Generosity Without Delicacy, Like Wit Without Judgment, Generally Gives As Much Pain As Pleasure.

Misery Is A Guest That We Are Glad To Part With, However Certain Of Her Speedy Return.