The Misery Of Man Proceeds

No Man Hates Him At Whom He Can Laugh.

Man Alone Is Born Crying, Lives Complaining, And Dies Disappointed.

No Mind Is Much Employed Upon The Present; Recollection And Anticipation Fill Up Almost All Our Moments.

He That Floats Lazily Down The Stream, In Pursuit Of Something Borne Along By The Same Current, Will Find Himself Indeed Moved Forward; But Unless He Lays His Hand To The Oar, And Increases His Speed By His Own Labour, Must Be Always At The Same Distance From That Which He Is Following.

To Have The Management Of The Mind Is A Great Art, And It May Be Attained In A Considerable Degree By Experience And Habitual Exercise.