If We Will Have The Kindness Of

Truth, Sir, Is A Cow Which Will Yield Such People No More Milk, And So They Are Gone To Milk The Bull.

There Lurks, Perhaps, In Every Human Heart A Desire Of Distinction, Which Inclines Every Man First To Hope, And Then To Believe, That Nature Has Given Him Something Peculiar To Himself.

Men Hate More Steadily Than They Love.

Admiration Begins Where Acquaintance Ceases

The Only End Of Writing Is To Enable Readers Better To Enjoy Life Or Better To Endure It.