Too Young For Woe, Though

Those Who Are Well Assured Of Their Own Standing Are Least Apt To Trespass On That Of Others, Whereas Nothing Is So Offensive As The Aspirings Of Vulgarity Which Thinks To Elevate Itself By Humiliating Its Neighbor.

He Who Thinks Much Says But Little In Proportion To His Thoughts. He Selects That Language Which Will Convey His Ideas In The Most Explicit And Direct Manner. He Tries To Compress As Much Thought As Possible Into A Few Words. On The Contrary, The Man Who Talks Everlastingly And Promiscuously, Who Seems To Have An Exhaustless Magazine Of Sound, Crowds So Many Words Into His Thoughts That He Always Obscures, And Very Frequently Conceals Them.

Some Minds Corrode And Grow Inactive Under The Loss Of Personal Liberty; Others Grow Morbid And Irritable; But It Is The Nature Of The Poet To Become Tender And Imaginitive In The Loneliness Of Confinement. He Banquets Upon The Honey Of His Own Thoughts, And, Like The Captive Bird, Pours Forth His Soul In Melody.

There's Nothing Like Being In Fashion. A Man That Has Once Got His Character Up For A Wit Is Always Sure Of A Laugh, Say What He May. He May Utter As Much Nonsense As He Pleases, And All Will Pass Current. No One Stops To Question The Coin Of A Rich Man; But A Poor Devil Cannot Pass Off Either A Joke Or A Guinea Without Its Being Examined On Both Sides. Wit And Coin Are Always Doubted With A Threadbare Coat.

I Was Always Fond Of Visiting New Scenes, And Observing Strange Characters And Manners. Even When A Mere Child I Began My Travels, And Made Many Tours Of Discovery Into Foreign Parts And Unknown Regions Of My Native City, To The Frequent Alarm Of My Parents, And The Emolument Of The Town-crier.