I believe no one qualification is so likely to make a good writer, as the power of rejecting his own thoughts.
Light quirks of music, broken and uneven,Make the soul dance upon a jig to Heav'n.
Health consists with temperance alone.
Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.
In lazy apathy let stoics boast, their virtue fixed, 'tis fixed as in a frost.
The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.