My Diseases Are An Asthma

It Is The Great Privilege Of Poverty To Be Happy Unenvied, To Be Healthful Without Physic, And Secure Without A Guard; To Obtain From The Bounty Of Nature, What The Great And Wealthy Are Compelled To Procure By The Help Of Artists And Attendants, Of Flatterers And Spies.

I Am Not Yet So Lost In Lexicography, As To Forget That Words Are The Daughters Of The Earth, And That Things Are The Sons Of Heaven. Language Is Only The Instrument Of Science, And Words Are But The Signs Of Ideas: I Wish, However, That The Instrument Might Be Less Apt To Decay, And That Signs Might Be Permanent, Like The Things Which They Denote.

I Have Often Thought That There Has Rarely Passed A Life Of Which A Judicious And Faithful Narrative Would Not Be Useful; For Not Only Every Man Has, In The Mighty Mass Of The World, Great Numbers In The Same Condition With Himself, To Whom His Mistakes And Miscarriages, Escapes And Expedients, Would Be Of Immediate And Apparent Use; But There Is Such A Uniformity In The State Of Man, Considered Apart From Adventitious And Separable Decorations And Disguises, That There Is Scarce Any Possibility Of Good Or Ill But Is Common To Human Kind.

Lectures Were Once Useful; But Now When All Can Read, And Books Are So Numerous, Lectures Are Unnecessary.

Learn That The Present Hour Alone Is Man's.