Little Would Be Wanting To The Happiness

There Is Nothing More Dreadful To An Author Than Neglect; Compared With Which Reproach, Hatred, And Opposition Are Names Of Happiness; Yet This Worst, This Meanest Fate, Every One Who Dares To Write Has Reason To Fear.

I Soon Found That Wit, Like Every Other Power, Has Its Boundaries; That Its Success Depends Upon The Aptitude Of Others To Receive Impressions; And That As Some Bodies, Indissoluble By Heat, Can Set The Furnace And Crucible At Defiance, There Are Min

Games Are Good Or Bad As To Their Nature; All May Be Perverted.

Surely A Long Life Must Be Somewhat Tedious, Since We Are Forced To Call In So Many Trifling Things To Help Rid Us Of Our Time, Which Will Never Return.

Questioning Is Not The Mode Of Conversation Among Gentlemen.