I Hate The French Because They Are

All His Faults Are Such That One Loves Him Still The Better For Them.

Let Schoolmasters Puzzle Their Brain, With Grammar, And Nonsense, And Learning, Good Liquor, I Stoutly Maintain, Gives Genius A Better Discerning.

There Is Yet A Silent Agony In Which The Mind Appears To Disdain All External Help, And Broods Over Its Distresses With Gloomy Reserve. This Is The Most Dangerous State Of Mind; Accidents Or Friendships May Lessen The Louder Kinds Of Grief, But All Remedies For This Must Be Had From Within, And There Despair Too Often Finds The Most Deadly Enemy.

There Is Unspeakable Pleasure Attending The Life Of A Voluntary Student.

As Writers Become More Numerous, It Is Natural For Readers To Become More Indolent; Whence Must Necessarily Arise A Desire Of Attaining Knowledge With The Greatest Possible Ease.