The Most Certain Sign Of Wisdom Is

The Soul Which Has No Fixed Purpose In Life Is Lost; To Be Everywhere, Is To Be Nowhere.

Age Imprints More Wrinkles A In The Mind, Than It Does In The Face, And Souls Are Never, Or Very Rarely Seen, That In Growing Old Do Not Smell Sour And Musty. Man Moves All Together, Both Towards His Perfection And Decay.

My Errors Are By Now Natural And Incorrigible; But The Good That Worthy Men Do The Public By Making Themselves Imitable, I Shall Perhaps Do By Making Myself Evitable.

So It Is With Minds. Unless You Keep Them Busy With Some Definite Subject That Will Bridle And Control Them, They Throw Themselves In Disorder Hither And Yon In The Vague Field Of Imagination... And There Is No Mad Or Idle Fancy That They Do Not Bring Forth In The Agitation.

I Was Not Long Since In A Company Where I Was Not Who Of My Fraternity Brought News Of A Kind Of Pills, By True Account, Composed Of A Hundred And Odd Several Ingredients; Whereat We Laughed Very Heartily, And Made Ourselves Good Sport; For What Rock So Hard Were Able To Resist The Shock Or Withstand The Force Of So Thick And Numerous A Battery?