We Must Eat To Live,

Yes, I Had Two Strings To My Bow; Both Golden Ones, Egad! And Both Cracked.

Dancing Begets Warmth, Which Is The Parent Of Wantonness. It Is, Sir, The Great Grandfather Of Cuckoldom.

An Author Ought To Consider Himself, Not As A Gentleman Who Gives A Private Or Eleemosynary Treat, But Rather As One Who Keeps A Public Ordinary, At Which All Persons Are Welcome For Their Money.

Considering The Unforeseen Events Of This World, We Should Be Taught That No Human Condition Should Inspire Men With Absolute Despair.

A Grave Aspect To A Grave Character Is Of Much More Consequence Than The World Is Generally Aware Of; A Barber May Make You Laugh, But A Surgeon Ought Rather To Make You Cry.