Look What A Little Vain Dust We

The First Race Of Mankind Used To Dispute, As Our Ordinary People Do Now-a-days, In A Kind Of Wild Logic, Uncultivated By Rule Of Art.

Every One Knows The Veneration Which Was Paid By The Jews To A Name So Great, Wonderful, And Holy. They Would Not Let It Enter Even Into Their Religious Discourses. What Can We Then Think Of Those Who Make Use Of So Tremendous A Name, In The Ordinary Expression Of Their Anger, Mirth, And Most Impertinent Passions?

Our Grub-street Biographers Watch For The Death Of A Great Man Like So Many Undertakers On Purpose To Make A Penny Of Him.

A True Critic Ought To Dwell Rather Upon Excellencies Than Imperfections

A Perfect Tragedy Is The Noblest Production Of Human Nature.