Nothing Is More Gratifying To The Mind

The Memory Is Perpetually Looking Back When We Have Nothing Present To Entertain Us. It Is Like Those Repositories In Animals That Are Filled With Food, On Which They May Ruminate When Their Present Pastures Fail.

I Have Often Thought, Says Sir Roger, It Happens Very Well That Christmas Should Fall Out In The Middle Of Winter.

If Our Zeal Were True And Genuine We Should Be Much More Angry With A Sinner Than A Heretic.

Our Disputants Put Me In Mind Of The Cuttlefish That, When He Is Unable To Extricate Himself, Blackens The Water About Him Till He Becomes Invisible.

There Is A Kind Of Grandeur And Respect Which The Meanest And Most Insignificant Part Of Mankind Endeavor To Procure In The Little Circle Of Their Friends And Acquaintance. The Poorest Mechanic, Nay, The Man Who Lives Upon Common Alms, Gets Him His Set Of Admirers, And Delights In That Superiority Which He Enjoys Over Those Who Are In Some Respects Beneath Him. This Ambition, Which Is Natural To The Soul Of Man, Might, Methinks, Receive A Very Happy Turn; And, If It Were Rightly Directed, Contribute As Much To A Person's Advantage, As It Generally Does To His Uneasiness And Disquiet.