Every Abridgement Of A Good Book Is

So It Is With Minds. Unless You Keep Them Busy With Some Definite Subject That Will Bridle And Control Them, They Throw Themselves In Disorder Hither And Yon In The Vague Field Of Imagination... And There Is No Mad Or Idle Fancy That They Do Not Bring Forth In The Agitation.

A Man Never Speaks Of Himself Without Losing Something. What He Says In His Disfavor Is Always Beleived, But When He Commends Himself, He Arouses Mistrust.

If I Were Of The Trade, I Should Naturalize Art As Much As They "artialize" Nature.

I Enter Into Discussion And Argument With Great Freedom And Ease, Inasmuch As Opinion Finds Me In A Bad Soil To Penetrate And Take Deep Root In. No Propositions Astonish Me, No Belief Offends Me, Whatever Contrast It Offers To My Own. There Is No Fancy So Frivolous And So Extravagant That It Does Not Seem To Me Quite Suitable To The Production Of The Human Mind.

Who Is Only Good That Others May Know It, And That He May Be The Better Esteemed When 'tis Known, Who Will Do Well But Upon Condition That His Virtue May Be Known To Men, Is One From Whom Much Service Is Not To Be Expected.