There Mark What Ills The Scholar's Life

Genius Now And Then Produces A Lucky Trifle. We Still Read The Dove Of Anacreon, And Sparrow Of Catullus; And A Writer Naturally Pleases Himself With A Performance Which Owes Nothing To The Subject.

The Blaze Of Reputation Cannot Be Blown Out, But It Often Dies In The Socket; A Very Few Names May Be Considered As Perpetual Lamps That Shine Unconsumed.

Nothing Will Ever Be Attempted If All Possible Objections Must First Be Overcome.

No One Will Persist Long In Helping Someone Who Will Not Help Themselves.

Sir, They Are A Race Of Convicts, And Ought To Be Thankful For Any Thing We Allow Them Short Of Hanging.