He Mouths A Sentence As Curs Mouth

There's A Strange Something, Which Without A Brain Fools Feel, And Which E'en Wise Men Can't Explain, Planted In Man, To Bind Him To That Earth, In Dearest Ties, From Whence He Drew His Birth.

Amongst The Sons Of Men How Few Are Known Who Dare Be Just To Merit Not Their Own.

This A Sacred Rule We Find Among The Nicest Of Mankind, (which Never Might Exception Brook From Hobbes Even Down To Bolingbroke,) To Doubt Of Facts, However True, Unless They Know The Causes Too.

To Copy Beauty Forfeits All Pretense To Fame; To Copy Faults Is Want Of Sense

The Laws I Love; The Lawyers I Suspect.