Timidity Is A Disease Of The Mind,

Cruel With Guilt, And Daring With Despair, The Midnight Murderer Bursts The Faithless Bar; Invades The Sacred Hour Of Silent Rest And Leaves, Unseen, A Dagger In Your Breast.

The Appearance And Retirement Of Actors Are The Great Events Of The Theatrical World; And Their First Performances Fill The Pit With Conjecture And Prognostication, As The First Actions Of A New Monarch Agitate Nations With Hope And Fear.

The Diversion Of Baiting An Author Has The Sanction Of All Ages And Nations, And Is More Lawful Than The Sport Of Teasing Other Animals, Because, For The Most Part, He Comes Voluntarily To The Stake, Furnished, As He Imagines, By The Patron Powers Of Literature, With Resistless Weapons, And Impenetrable Armour, With The Mail Of The Boar Of Erymanth, And The Paws Of The Lion Of Nemea.

Books Like Friends, Should Be Few And Well-chosen.

Where No Man Thinks Himself Under Any Obligation To Submit To Another, And, Instead Of Co-operating In One Great Scheme, Every One Hastens Through By-paths To Private Profit, No Great Change Can Suddenly Be Made; Nor Is Superior Knowledge Of Much Effect, Where Every Man Resolves To Use His Own Eyes And His Own Judgment, And Every One Applauds His Own Dexterity And Diligence, In Proportion As He Becomes Rich Sooner Than His Neighbour.