It Is A Monstrous Thing That I

Seeing That The Senses Cannot Decide Our Dispute, Being Themselves Full Of Uncertainty, We Must Have Recourse To Reason; There Is No Reason But Must Be Built Upon Another Reason: So Here We Are Retreating Backwards To Infinity.

Great Authors, When They Write About Causes, Adduce Not Only Those They Think Are True But Also Those They Do Not Believe In, Provided They Have Some Originality And Beauty. They Speak Truly And Usefully Enough If They Speak Ingeniously.

I Listen With Attention To The Judgment Of All Men; But So Far As I Can Remember, I Have Followed None But My Own.

My Library Is My Kingdom, And Here I Try To Make My Rule Absolute-shutting Off This Single Nook From Wife, Daughter And Society. Elsewhere I Have Only A Verbal Authority, And Vague. Unhappy Is The Man, In My Opinion, Who Has No Spot At Home Where He Can Be At Home To Himself-to Court Himself And Hide Away.

In Plain Truth, It Is No Want, But Rather Abundance That Creates Avarice.