Solitude Begets Whimsies.

People Are Never So Near Playing The Fool As When They Think Themselves Wise.

Gardening Is Certainly The Next Amusement To Reading.

I Hate The Noise And Hurry Inseparable From Great Estates And Titles, And Look Upon Both As Blessings That Ought Only To Be Given To Fools, For 'tis Only To Them That They Are Blessings.

A Man That Is Ashamed Of Passions That Are Natural And Reasonable Is Generally Proud Of Those That Are Shameful And Silly.

And We Meet, With Champagne And A Chicken, At Last.