It Very Seldom Happens To

He That Embarks On The Voyage Of Life Will Always Wish To Advance Rather By The Impulse Of The Wind Than The Strokes Of The Oar; And Many Fold In Their Passage; While They Lie Waiting For The Gale.

Like An Image In A Dream The World Is Troubled By Love, Hatred, And Other Poisons. So Long As The Dream Lasts, The Image Appears To Be Real; But On Awaking It Vanishes.

Politics Are Now Nothing More Than Means Of Rising In The World. With This Sole View Do Men Engage In Politics, And Their Whole Conduct Proceeds Upon It.

History Can Be Formed From Permanent Monuments And Records; But Lives Can Only Be Written From Personal Knowledge, Which Is Growing Every Day Less, And In A Short Time Is Lost Forever.

I Know Not Any Crime So Great That A Man Could Contrive To Commit As Poisoning The Sources Of Eternal Truth.