Words Are But The Signs

The Uniform Necessities Of Human Nature Produce In A Great Measure Uniformity Of Life, And For Part Of The Day Make One Place Like Another; To Dress And To Undress, To Eat And To Sleep, Are The Same In London As In The Country.

It Is Thus That Mutual Cowardice Keeps Us In Peace. Were One Half Of Mankind Brave And One Cowards, The Brave Would Be Always Beating The Cowards. Were All Brave, They Would Lead A Very Uneasy Life; All Would Be Continually Fighting; But Being All Cowards, We Go On Very Well.

Most Minds Are The Slaves Of External Circumstances, And Conform To Any Hand That Undertakes To Mould Them.

Sorrow Is A Kind Of Rust Of The Soul, Which Every New Idea Contributes In Its Passage To Scour Away. It Is The Putrefaction Of Stagnant Life, And Is Remedied By Exercise And Motion.

To Forget, Or Pretend To Do So, To Return A Borrowed Article, Is The Meanest Sort Of Petty Theft.