To Divert Myself From A Troublesome Fancy,

Nothing Fixes A Thing So Intensely In The Memory As The Wish To Forget It.

One Should Be Ever Booted And Spurred And Ready To Depart.

I Was Not Long Since In A Company Where I Was Not Who Of My Fraternity Brought News Of A Kind Of Pills, By True Account, Composed Of A Hundred And Odd Several Ingredients; Whereat We Laughed Very Heartily, And Made Ourselves Good Sport; For What Rock So Hard Were Able To Resist The Shock Or Withstand The Force Of So Thick And Numerous A Battery?

We Have More Poets Than Judges And Interpreters Of Poetry. It Is Easier To Write An Indifferent Poem Than To Understand A Good One. There Is, Indeed, A Certain Low And Moderate Sort Of Poetry, That A Man May Well Enough Judge By Certain Rules Of Art; But The True, Supreme, And Divine Poesy Is Equally Above All Rules And Reason. And Whoever Discerns The Beauty Of It With The Most Assured And Most Steady Sight Sees No More Than The Quick Reflection Of A Flash Of Lightning.

It Is A Small Soul, Buried Beneath The Weight Of Affairs, That Does Not Know How To Get Clean Away From Them, That Cannot Put Them Aside And Pick Them Up Again.