In Hope To Merit Heaven By Making

Though Sages May Pour Out Their Wisdom's Treasure, There Is No Sterner Moralist Than Pleasure.

I Think The Worst Woman That Ever Existed Would Have Made A Man Of Very Passable Reputation -- They Are All Better Than Us And Their Faults Such As They Are Must Originate With Ourselves.

But 'midst The Crowd, The Hum, The Shock Of Men, To Hear, To See, To Feel, And To Possess, And Roam Along, The World's Tired Denizen, With None Who Bless Us, None Whom We Can Bless.

O Gold! I Still Prefer Thee Unto Paper, Which Makes Bank Credit Like A Bark Of Vapour.

I Am About To Be Married, And Am Of Course In All The Misery Of A Man In Pursuit Of Happiness.