We Never Do Anything Well Till We

Old Friendships Are Like Meats Served Up Repeatedly, Cold, Comfortless, And Distasteful. The Stomach Turns Against Them.

The Worst Old Age Is That Of The Mind.

Genius Only Leaves Behind It The Monuments Of Its Strength.

Habitual Liars Invent Falsehoods Not To Gain Any End Or Even To Deceive Their Hearers, But To Amuse Themselves. It Is Partly Practice And Partly Habit. It Requires An Effort In Them To Speak Truth.

The Greatest Grossness Sometimes Accompanies The Greatest Refinement, As A Natural Relief.