Ignorance, Madam, Pure Ignorance.

In Writing, As In Life, Faults Are Endured Without Disgust When They Are Associated With Transcendent Merit, And May Be Sometimes Recommended To Weak Judgments By The Lustre Which They Obtain From Their Union With Excellence; But It Is The Business Of Those Who Presume To Superintend The Taste Or Morals Of Mankind To Separate Delusive Combinations, And Distinguish That Which May Be Praised From That Which Can Only Be Excused.

The Time Will Come To Every Human Being When It Must Be Known How Well He Can Bear To Die.

No Man Will Be Found In Whose Mind Airy Notions Do Not Sometimes Tyrannize, And Force Him To Hope Or Fear Beyond The Limits Of Sober Probability.

It Would Add Much To Human Happiness, If An Art Could Be Taught Of Forgetting All Of Which The Remembrance Is At Once Useless And Afflictive, That The Mind Might Perform Its Functions Without Encumbrance, And The Past Might No Longer Encroach Upon The Present.

Marriage Has Many Pains, But Celibacy Has No Pleasures.