How Shall I Lose The

You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

Therefore They Who Say Our Thoughts Are Not Our Own Because They Resemble The Ancients, May As Well Say Our Faces Are Not Our Own, Because They Are Like Our Fathers: And Indeed It Is Very Unreasonable, That People Should Expect Us To Be Scholars, And Yet Be Angry To Find Us So.

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

Our Passions Are Like Convulsion Fits, Which, Though They Make Us Stronger For A Time, Leave Us The Weaker Ever After.

All Nature's Diff'rence Keeps All Nature's Peace.