The Habit Of Pleasing By Flattery Makes

Many Laws As Certainly Make Men Bad, As Bad Men Make Many Laws.

Ah What Avails The Sceptred Race, Ah What The Form Divine! What Every Virtue, Every Grace! Rose Aylmer, All Were Thine. Rose Aylmer, Whom These Wakeful Eyes May Weep, But Never See, A Night Of Memories And Of Sighs I Consecrate To Thee.

A Good Cook Is The Peculiar Gift Of The Gods. He Must Be A Perfect Creature From The Brain To The Palate, From The Palate To The Finger's End.

Nature I Loved, And Next To Nature, Art.

The Most Pernicious Of Absurdities Is That Weak, Blind, Stupid Faith Is Better Than The Constant Practice Of Every Human Virtue.