Habit Is Second Nature.

There Is Nothing On Which Men Are Commonly More Intent Than On Making A Way For Their Opinions.

There Is Some Shadow Of Delight And Delicacy Which Smiles Upon And Flatters Us Even In The Very Lap Of Melancholy.

There Are No Truths, Only Moments Of Claryty Passing For Answers.

The Relish Of Good And Evil Depends In A Great Measure Upon The Opinion We Have Of Them.

I Enter Into Discussion And Argument With Great Freedom And Ease, Inasmuch As Opinion Finds Me In A Bad Soil To Penetrate And Take Deep Root In. No Propositions Astonish Me, No Belief Offends Me, Whatever Contrast It Offers To My Own. There Is No Fancy So Frivolous And So Extravagant That It Does Not Seem To Me Quite Suitable To The Production Of The Human Mind.