Gratitude Is A Species Of Justice.

Being Married To Those Sleepy-souled Women Is Just Like Playing At Cards For Nothing: No Passion Is Excited And The Time Is Filled Up. I Do Not, However, Envy A Fellow One Of Those Honeysuckle Wives For My Part, As They Are But Creepers At Best And Commonly Destroy The Tree They So Tenderly Cling About.

Nothing Is Little To Him That Feels It With Great Sensibility.

Pound St. Paul's Church Into Atoms, And Consider Any Single Atom; It Is To Be Sure, Good For Nothing; But Put All These Atoms Together, And You Have St. Paul's Church. So It Is With Human Felicity, Which Is Made Up Of Many Ingredients, Each Of Which May Be Shown To Be Very Insignificant.

None But Those Who Have Learned The Art Of Subjecting Their Senses As Well As Reason To Hypothetical Systems Can Be Persuaded By The Most Specious Rhetorician That The Lots Of Life Are Equal; Yet It Cannot Be Denied That Every One Has His Peculiar Pleasures And Vexations, That External Accidents Operate Variously Upon Different Minds, And That No Man Can Exactly Judge From His Own Sensations What Another Would Feel In The Same Circumstances.

To Tell Of Disappointment And Misery, To Thicken The Darkness Of Futurity, And Perplex The Labyrinth Of Uncertainty, Has Been Always A Delicious Employment Of The Poets