When Much Dispute Has Past, We Find

Praise Is Like Ambergrease: A Little Whiff Of It, And By Snatches, Is Very Agreeable; But When A Man Holds A Whole Lump Of It To Your Nose, It Is A Stink, And Strikes You Down.

Go, Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

There Are Some Solitary Wretches Who Seem To Have Left The Rest Of Mankind, Only, As Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

Man, Like The Generous Vine, Supported Lives; The Strength He Gains Is From The Embrace He Gives.

A Field Of Glory Is A Field For All.