With How Much Ease Believe We What

What Judgment I Had Increases Rather Than Diminishes; And Thoughts, Such As They Are, Come Crowding In So Fast Upon Me, That My Only Difficulty Is To Choose Or Reject; To Run Them Into Verse Or To Give Them The Other Harmony Of Prose.

Satire Among The Romans, But Not Among The Greeks, Was A Bitter Invective Poem.

Second Thoughts, They Say, Are Best.

Our Vows Are Heard Betimes! And Heaven Takes Care To Grant, Before We Can Conclude The Prayer: Preventing Angels Met It Half The Way, And Sent Us Back To Praise, Who Came To Pray.

A Narrow Mind Begets Obstinacy; We Do Not Easily Believe What We Cannot See.