The Best Is Yet To Come.

Slanders, Sir, For The Satirical Rogue Says Here That Old Men Have Grey Beards, That Their Faces Are Wrinkled, Their Eyes Purging Think Amber And Plum-tree Gum, And That They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit, Together With Most Weak Hams.

Thou Shouldst Not Have Been Old Till Thou Hadst Been Wise.

I Love Thee, I Love Thee With A Love That Shall Not Die. Till The Sun Grows Cold And The Stars Grow Old.

To Persist In Doing Wrong Extenuates Not The Wrong, But Makes It Much More Heavy.

Were It Good To Set The Exact Wealth Of All Our States All At One Cast? To Set So Rich A Main On The Nice Hazard Of One Doubtful Hour? It Were Not Good.