If Our Hours Were All Serene, We

As Hypocrisy Is Said To Be The Highest Compliment To Virtue, The Art Of Lying Is The Strongest Acknowledgment Of The Force Of Truth.

Hope Is The Best Possession. None Are Completely Wretched But Those Who Are Without Hope. Few Are Reduced So Low As That.

Our Contempt For Others Proves Nothing But The Illiberality And Narrowness Of Our Own Views.

We Are Never So Much Disposed To Quarrel With Others As When We Are Dissatisfied With Ourselves.

It Is Only Necessary To Raise A Bugbear Before The English Imagination In Order To Govern It At Will. Whatever They Hate Or Fear, They Implicitly Believe In, Merely From The Scope It Gives To These Passions.