A Tavern Chair Is The Throne Of

Yet It Is Necessary To Hope, Though Hope Should Always Be Deluded, For Hope Itself Is Happiness, And Its Frustrations, However Frequent, Are Yet Less Dreadful Than Its Extinction.

Every Man Prefers Virtue, When There Is Not Some Strong Incitement To Transgress Its Precepts.

Wheresoe'er I Turn My View, All Is Strange, Yet Nothing New: Endless Labor All Along, Endless Labor To Be Wrong: Phrase That Time Has Flung Away; Uncouth Words In Disarray, Trick'd In Antique Ruff And Bonnet, Ode, And Elegy, And Sonnet.

All Envy Is Proportionate To Desire; We Are Uneasy At The Attainments Of Another, According As We Think Our Own Happiness Would Be Advanced By The Addition Of That Which He Withholds From Us.

The Authour Who Imitates His Predecessors Only By Furnishing Himself With Thoughts And Elegances Out Of The Same General Magazine Of Literature, Can With Little More Propriety Be Reproached As A Plagiary, Than The Architect Can Be Censured As A Mean Copier Of Angelo Or Wren, Because He Digs His Marble Out Of The Same Quarry, Squares His Stones By The Same Art, And Unites Them In Columns Of The Same Orders.