There Is Nothing, Sir, Too Little For

Waste Cannot Be Accurately Told, Though We Are Sensible How Destructive It Is. Economy, On The One Hand, By Which A Certain Income Is Made To Maintain A Man Genteelly; And Waste, On The Other, By Which On The Same Income Another Man Lives Shabbily, Cannot Be Defined. It Is A Very Nice Thing; As One Man Wears His Coat Out Much Sooner Than Another, We Cannot Tell How.

For Life Affords No Higher Pleasure, Than That Of Surmounting Difficulties, Passing From One Step Of Success To Another, Forming New Wishes And Seeing Them Gratified. He That Labours In Any Great Or Laudable Undertaking, Has His Fatigues First Supported By Hope, And Afterwards Rewarded By Joy... To Strive With Difficulties, And To Conquer Them, Is The Highest Human Felicity.

No Man Sympathizes With The Sorrows Of Vanity.

I Am Not Able To Instruct You. I Can Only Tell That I Have Chosen Wrong. I Have Passed My Time In Study Without Experience; In The Attainment Of Sciences Which Can, For The Most Part, Be But Remotely Useful To Mankind. I Have Purchased Knowledge At The Expense Of All The Common Comforts Of Life: I Have Missed The Endearing Elegance Of Female Friendship, And The Happy Commerce Of Domestic Tenderness.

Such Is The Pleasure Of Projecting That Many Content Themselves With A Succession Of Visionary Schemes, And Wear Out Their Allotted Time In The Calm Amusement Of Contriving What They Never Attempt Or Hope To Execute.