This World, Where Much Is To Be

I Hate Mankind, For I Think Myself One Of The Best Of Them, And I Know How Bad I Am.

Vanity Is So Frequently The Apparent Motive Of Advice That We, For The Most Part, Summon Our Powers To Oppose It Without Very Accurate Inquiry Whether It Is Right. It Is Sufficient That Another Is Growing Great In His Own Eyes At Our Expense, And Assumes Authority Over Us Without Our Permission; For Many Would Contentedly Suffer The Consequences Of Their Own Mistakes, Rather Than The Insolence Of Him Who Triumphs As Their Deliverer.

Curiosity Is The Thirst Of The Soul.

He That Writes May Be Considered As A Kind Of General Challenger, Whom Every One Has A Right To Attack; Since He Quits The Common Rank Of Life, Steps Forward Beyond The Lists, And Offers His Merit To The Public Judgement. To Commence Author Is To Claim Praise, And No Man Can Justly Aspire To Honour, But At The Hazard Of Disgrace.

Language Is The Dress Of Thought; Every Time You Talk Your Mind Is On Parade.