The Hours We Pass With

I Have Seen Her And Sister Cry Over A Book For An Hour Together, And They Said, They Liked The Book The Better The More It Made Them Cry.

For The First Time, The Best May Err, Art May Persuade, And Novelty Spread Out Its Charms. The First Fault Is The Child Of Simplicity; But Every Other The Offspring Of Guilt.

The Life Of A Scholar Seldom Abounds With Adventure.

Villainy, When Detected, Never Gives Up, But Boldly Adds Impudence To Imposture.

All Is Not Gold That Glitters, Pleasure Seems Sweet, But Proves A Glass Of Bitters