Whoever Tells The Best Story Wins.

My Stern Chase After Time Is, To Borrow A Simile From Tom Paine, Like The Race Of A Man With A Wooden Leg After A Horse.

I Have Made It A Practice For Several Years To Read The Bible Through In The Course Of Every Year. I Usually Devote To This Reading The First Hour After I Rise Every Morning. As, Including The Apocrypha, It Contains About Fourteen Hundred Chapters, And As I Meet With Occasional Interruptions, When This Reading Is For Single Days, And Sometimes For Weeks, Or Even Months, Suspended, My Rule Is To Read Five Chapters Every Morning, Which Leaves An Allowance Of About One-forth Of The Time For Such Interruptions.

However Tiresome To Others, The Most Indefatigable Orator Is Never Tedious To Himself. The Sound Of His Own Voice Never Loses Its Harmony To His Own Ear; And Among The Delusions, Which Self-love Is Ever Assiduous In Attempting To Pass Upon Virtue, He Fancies Himself To Be Sounding The Sweetest Tones

There Is In The Clergy Of All Christian Denominations A Time-serving, Cringing, Subservient Morality, As Wide From The Spirit Of The Gospel As It Is From The Intrepid Assertion And Vindication Of Truth.

The Public History Of All Countries, And All Ages, Is But A Sort Of Mask, Richly Colored. The Interior Working Of The Machinery Must Be Foul.