Art Hath An Enemy Called Ignorance.

Ignorance Cannot Always Be Inferred From Inaccuracy; Knowledge Is Not Always Present.

Every Man Has A Lurking Wish To Appear Considerable In His Native Place.

Every Man, However Hopeless His Pretensions May Appear, Has Some Project By Which He Hopes To Rise To Reputation; Some Art By Which He Imagines That The Attention Of The World Will Be Attracted; Some Quality, Good Or Bad, Which Discriminates Him From The Common Herd Of Mortals, And By Which Others May Be Persuaded To Love, Or Compelled To Fear Him.

Always, Sir, Set A High Value On Spontaneous Kindness.

Each Change Of Many-colour'd Life He Drew, Exhausted Worlds, And Then Imagin'd New.