After work, I like to unwind by smoking a pipe while reading the paper.

Yet was it ne’er my Fate, from thee to find A Deed ungentle, or a Word unkind: When others curst the Auth’ress of their Woe, Thy Pity check’d my Sorrows in their Flow:

Consequently we discard our præceptor—our first medical love—and seek a new.

[…] for that he believed he could shew me such a blow of tulips as was not to be matched in the whole country.