Every Human Being Whose Mind Is Not

There Seems To Be A Strange Affectation In Authors Of Appearing To Have Done Everything By Chance.

Men Are Most Powerfully Affected By Those Evils Which Themselves Feel, Or Which Appear Before Their Own Eyes.

While An Author Is Yet Living, We Estimate His Powers By His Worst Performance; And When He Is Dead, We Rate Him By His Best.

Criticism, Though Dignified From The Earliest Ages By The Labours Of Men Eminent For Knowledge And Sagacity, Has Not Yet Attained The Certainty And Stability Of Science.

I Doubt If There Ever Was A Man Who Was Not Gratified By Being Told That He Was Liked By The Women.