Invention Is Almost The Only Literary Labour

Glory, The Casual Gift Of Thoughtless Crowds! Glory, The Bribe Of Avaricious Virtue!

The Heroes Of Literary History Have Been No Less Remarkable For What They Have Suffered Than For What They Have Achieved.

A Man Who Uses A Great Many Words To Express His Meaning Is Like A Bad Marksman Who, Instead Of Aiming A Single Stone At An Object, Takes Up A Handful And Throws At It In Hopes He May Hit.

Friendship May Well Deserve The Sacrifice Of Pleasure, Though Not Of Conscience.

Club: An Assembly Of Good Fellows, Meeting Under Certain Conditions.