It Is Very Common For Us To

I Soon Found That Wit, Like Every Other Power, Has Its Boundaries; That Its Success Depends Upon The Aptitude Of Others To Receive Impressions; And That As Some Bodies, Indissoluble By Heat, Can Set The Furnace And Crucible At Defiance, There Are Min

Sir, They Are A Race Of Convicts, And Ought To Be Thankful For Any Thing We Allow Them Short Of Hanging.

Philosophy Has Often Attempted To Repress Insolence By Asserting That All Conditions Are Leveled By Death; A Position Which, However It May Defect The Happy, Will Seldom Afford Much Comfort To The Wretched.

Solitude Is Dangerous To Reason, Without Being Favourable To Virtue. Remember That The Solitary Mortal Is Certainly Luxurious, Probably Superstitious, And Possibly Mad.

Spite And Ill-nature Are Among The Most Expensive Luxuries In Life.