Love Has No Great Influences Upon The

History Can Be Formed From Permanent Monuments And Records; But Lives Can Only Be Written From Personal Knowledge, Which Is Growing Every Day Less, And In A Short Time Is Lost Forever.

If One Was To Think Constantly Of Death, The Business Of Life Would Stand Still

To Revenge Reasonable Incredulity By Refusing Evidence, Is A Degree Of Insolence With Which The World Is Not Yet Acquainted; And Stubborn Audacity Is The Last Refuge Of Guilt.

No Weakness Of The Human Mind Has More Frequently Incurred Animadversion, Than The Negligence With Which Men Overlook Their Own Faults, However Flagrant, And The Easiness With Which They Pardon Them, However Frequently Repeated.

How Many May A Man Of Diffusive Conversation Count Among His Acquaintances, Whose Lives Have Been Signalized By Numberless Escapes; Who Never Cross The River But In A Storm, Or Take A Journey Into The Country Without More Adventures Than Befel The Knights-errant Of Ancient Times In Pathless Forests Or Enchanted Castles! How Many Must He Know, To Whom Portents And Prodigies Are Of Daily Occurrence; And For Whom Nature Is Hourly Working Wonders Invisible To Every Other Eye, Only To Supply Them With Subjects Of Conversation?