Think Not I Am What

I Am Surrounded Here By Parsons And Methodists, But As You Will See, Not Infested With The Mania.

I Am Never Long, Even In The Society Of Her I Love, Without Yearning For The Company Of My Lamp And My Library.

Kill A Man's Family, And He May Brook It, But Keep Your Hands Out Of His Breeches' Pocket.

Never To Talk To Ones Self Is A Form Of Hypocrisy

My Turn Of Mind Is So Given To Taking Things In The Absurd Point Of View, That It Breaks Out In Spite Of Me Every Now And Then.