Laws Grind The Poor, And

In Proportion As Society Refines, New Books Must Ever Become More Necessary.

They Please, Are Pleas'd, They Give To Get Esteem Till, Seeming Blest, They Grow To What They Seem.

Don't Let Us Make Imaginary Evils, When You Know We Have So Many Real Ones To Encounter.

A French Woman Is A Perfect Architect In Dress: She Never, With Gothic Ignorance, Mixes The Orders; She Never Tricks Out A Snobby Doric Shape With Corinthian Finery; Or, To Speak Without Metaphor, She Conforms To General Fashion Only When It Happens Not To Be Repugnant To Private Beauty.

The Malicious Sneer Is Improperly Called Laughter.