To Speak Less Of Oneself Than What

There Is No Pleasure To Me Without Communication: There Is Not So Much As A Sprightly Thought Comes Into My Mind That It Does Not Grieve Me To Have Produced Alone, And That I Have No One To Tell It To.

There Are As Many And Innumerable Degrees Of Wit, As There Are Cubits Between This And Heaven.

It Would Be Better To Have No Laws At All, Than To Have Too Many.

Whatever Is Preached To Us, And Whatever We Learn, We Should Still Remember That It Is Man That Gives, And Man That Receives; It Is A Mortal Hand That Presents It To Us, It Is A Mortal Hand That Accepts It.

It Is A Rare Life That Remains Orderly Even In Private.