Nothing Endears So Much A Friend As

Rousseau Was Mad But Influential; Hume Was Sane But Had No Followers.

All Power, Even The Most Despotic, Rests Ultimately On Opinion.

A Too Great Disproportion Among The Citizens Weakens Any State. Every Person, If Possible, Ought To Enjoy The Fruits Of His Labour, In A Full Possession Of All The Necessities, And Many Of The Conveniences Of Life. No One Can Doubt, But Such An Equality Is Most Suitable To Human Nature, And Diminishes Much Less From The Happiness Of The Rich Than It Adds To That Of The Poor.

An Infinite Number Of Real Parts Of Time, Passing In Succession, And Exhausted One After Another, Appears So Evident A Contradiction, That No Man, One Should Think, Whose Judgement Is Not Corrupted, Instead Of Being Improved, By The Sciences, Would Ever Be Able To Admit Of It.

For As To The Dispersing Of Books, That Circumstance Does Perhaps As Much Harm As Good: Since Nonsense Flies With Greater Celerity, And Makes Greater Impression Than Reason; Though Indeed No Particular Species Of Nonsense Is So Durable. But The Several Forms Of Nonsense Never Cease Succeeding One Another; And Men Are Always Under The Dominion Of Some One Or Other, Though Nothing Was Ever Equal In Absurdity And Wickedness To Our Present Patriotism.