Whether Dark Presages Of The Night Proceed

I Am Wonderfully Pleased When I Meet With Any Passage In An Old Greek Or Latin Author, That Is Not Blown Upon, And Which I Have Never Met With In Any Quotation.

Certain Is It That There Is No Kind Of Affection So Purely Angelic As Of A Father To A Daughter.

Among All Kinds Of Writing, There Is None In Which Authors Are More Apt To Miscarry Than In Works Of Humour, As There Is None In Which They Are More Ambitious To Excel.

Wine Heightens Indifference Into Love, Love Into Jealousy, And Jealousy Into Madness. It Often Turns The Good-natured Man Into An Idiot, And The Choleric Into An Assassin. It Gives Bitterness To Resentment, It Makes Vanity Insupportable, And Displays Every Little Spot Of The Soul In Its Utmost Deformity.

Our Grub-street Biographers Watch For The Death Of A Great Man Like So Many Undertakers On Purpose To Make A Penny Of Him.