Anything That Is Conceivable Is Possible.

What Peculiar Privilege Has This Little Agitation Of The Brain Which We Call Thought, That We Must Thus Make It The Model Of The Whole Universe? Our Partiality In Our Own Favour Does Indeed Present It On All Occasions; But Sound Philosophy Ought Carefully To Guard Against So Natural An Illusion.

All Morality Depends Upon Our Sentiments; And When Any Action Or Quality Of The Mind Pleases Us After A Certain Manner We Say It Is Virtuous; And When The Neglect Or Nonperformance Of It Displeases Us After A Like Manner, We Say That We Lie Under An Obligation To Perform It.

If Nature Has Been Frugal In Her Gifts And Endowments, There Is The More Need Of Art To Supply Her Defects. If She Has Been Generous And Liberal, Know That She Still Expects Industry And Application On Our Part, And Revenges Herself In Proportion To Our Negligent Ingratitude. The Richest Genius, Like The Most Fertile Soil, When Uncultivated, Shoots Up Into The Rankest Weeds; And Instead Of Vines And Olives For The Pleasure And Use Of Man, Produces, To Its Slothful Owner, The Most Abundant Crop Of Poisons.

No Conclusions Can Be More Agreeable To Scepticism Than Such As Make Discoveries Concerning The Weakness And Narrow Limits Of Human Reason And Capacity.

No Man Ever Threw Away Life While It Was Worth Keeping.