Ask Me No Questions, And

What If In Scotland's Wilds We Viel'd Our Head, Where Tempests Whistle Round The Sordid Bed; Where The Rug's Two-fold Use We Might Display, By Night A Blanket, And A Plaid By Day.

As Writers Become More Numerous, It Is Natural For Readers To Become More Indolent; Whence Must Necessarily Arise A Desire Of Attaining Knowledge With The Greatest Possible Ease.

What We Say Of A Thing That Has Just Come In Fashion And That Which We Do With The Dead, Is The Name Of The Honestest Man In The Nation: What More Of A Man Can Be Said?

To Husband Out Life's Taper At The Close, And Keep The Flames From Wasting By Repose.

To A Philosopher No Circumstance, However Trifling, Is Too Minute.