The Greatest Part Of A Writer's Time

Of All Kinds Of Credulity, The Most Obstinate Is That Of Party-spirit; Of Men, Who, Being Numbered, They Know Not Why, In Any Party, Resign The Use Of Their Own Eyes And Ears, And Resolve To Believe Nothing That Does Not Favor Those Whom They Profess To Follow.

The Present Is Never A Happy State To Any Human Being.

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

Never, My Dear Sir, Do You Take It Into Your Head That I Do Not Love You; You May Settle Yourself In Full Confidence Both Of My Love And My Esteem; I Love You As A Kind Man, I Value You As A Worthy Man, And Hope In Time To Reverence You As A Man Of Exemplary Piety.

Among Many Parallels Which Men Of Imagination Have Drawn Between The Natural And Moral State Of The World, It Has Been Observed That Happiness As Well As Virtue Consists In Mediocrity.