What Are The Sorrows Of

Law Is But A Heathen Word For Power.

A Rich Man Is An Honest Man--no Thanks To Him; For He Would Be A Double Knave, To Cheat Mankind When He Had No Need Of It: He Has No Occasion To Press Upon His Integrity, Nor So Much As To Touch Upon The Borders Of Dishonesty.

The Soul Is Placed In The Body Like A Rough Diamond, And Must Be Polished, Or The Luster Of It Will Never Appear.

In Their Religion They Are So Uneven, That Each Man Goes His Own Byway To Heaven.

I Smil'd To My Self At The Sight Of This Money, O Drug! Said I Aloud, What Art Thou Good For? Thou Art Not Worth To Me, No Not The Taking Off Of The Ground, One Of Those Knives Is Worth All This Heap, I Have No Manner Of Use For Thee, E'en Remain Where Thou Art, And Go To The Bottom As A Creature Whose Life Is Not Worth Saving. However, Upon Second Thoughts, I Took It Away.