A Man Seldom Thinks With More Earnestness

No Cause More Frequently Produces Bashfulness Than Too High An Opinion Of Our Own Importance. He That Imagines An Assembly Filled With His Merit, Panting With Expectation, And Hushed With Attention, Easily Terrifies Himself With The Dread Of Disappointing Them, And Strains His Imagination In Pursuit Of Something That May Vindicate The Veracity Of Fame, And Show That His Reputation Was Not Gained By Chance.

Sir, They Are A Race Of Convicts, And Ought To Be Thankful For Any Thing We Allow Them Short Of Hanging.

The Gratification Of Curiosity Rather Frees Us From Uneasiness Than Confers Pleasure; We Are More Pained By Ignorance Than Delighted By Instruction. Curiosity Is The Thirst Of The Soul; It Inflames And Torments Us, And Makes Us Taste Every Thing With Joy, However Otherwise Insipid, By Which It May Be Quenched.

Pleasure Itself Is Not A Vice

It Is, However, Not Necessary, That A Man Should Forbear To Write, Till He Has Discovered Some Truth Unknown Before; He May Be Sufficiently Useful, By Only Diversifying The Surface Of Knowledge, And Luring The Mind By A New Appearance To A Second View Of Those Beauties Which It Had Passed Over Inattentively Before.