Allegories Drawn To Great Length Will Always

Fear Is Implanted In Us As A Preservative From Evil.

Surely, It Is Much Easier To Respect A Man Who Has Always Had Respect, Than To Respect A Man Who We Know Was Last Year No Better Than Ourselves, And Will Be No Better Next Year.

No Place Affords A More Striking Conviction Of The Vanity Of Human Hopes Than A Public Library; For Who Can See The Wall Crowded On Every Side By Mighty Volumes, The Works Of Laborious Meditations And Accurate Inquiry, Now Scarcely Known But By The Catalogue.

The Poor And The Busy Have No Leisure For Sentimental Sorrow.

Hope Itself Is A Species Of Happiness, And, Perhaps, The Chief Happiness Which This World Affords; But, Like All Other Pleasures Immoderately Enjoyed, The Excesses Of Hope Must Be Expiated By Pain.