The Motives To Actions And The Inward

I Often Used To Think Myself In The Case Of The Fox-hunter, Who, When He Had Toiled And Sweated All Day In The Chase As If Some Unheard-of Blessing Was To Crown His Success, Finds At Last All He Has Got By His Labor Is A Stinking Nauseous Animal. But My Condition Was Yet Worse Than His; For He Leaves The Loathsome Wretch To Be Torn By His Hounds, Whilst I Was Obliged To Fondle Mine, And Meanly Pretend Him To Be The Object Of My Love.

If Modesty And Candor Are Necessary To An Author In His Judgment Of His Own Works, No Less Are They In His Reader.

I Had Some Short Struggle In My Mind Whether I Should Resign My Lover Or My Liberty, But This Lasted Not Long. I Found Myself As Free As Air And Could Not Bear The Thought Of Putting Myself In Any Man's Power For Life Only From A Present Capricious Inclination.

Tis This Desire Of Bending All Things To Our Own Purposes Which Turns Them Into Confusion And Is The Chief Source Of Every Error In Our Lives.

I Believe No Gentleman Would Like To Have His Family Affairs Neglected Because His Wife Was Filling Her Head With Crotchets And Pothooks, And Who, Because She Understood A Few Scraps Of Latin, Valued That More Than Minding Her Needle Or Providing Her Husband's Dinner.