Thou Hast The Most Unsavoury Similes.

Every Man Has Business And Desire, Such As It Is.

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

No, No; 'tis All Men's Office To Speak Patience To Those That Wring Under The Load Of Sorrow, But No Man's Virtue Nor Sufficiency To Be So Moral When He Shall Endure The Like Himself. Therefore Give Me No Counsel: My Griefs Cry Louder Than Advertisement.

Gold Were As Good As Twenty Orators.

You Great Benefactors, Sprinkle Our Society With Thankfulness. For Your Own Gifts, Make Yourselves Praised.