Just Praise Is Only A Debt, But

Some Read For Style, And Some For Argument: One Has Little Care About The Sentiment, He Observes Only How It Is Expressed; Another Regards Not The Conclusion, But Is Diligent To Mark How It Is Inferred; They Read For Other Purposes Than The Attainment Of Practical Knowledge; And Are No More Likely To Grow Wise By An Examination Of A Treatise Of Moral Prudence, Than An Architect To Inflame His Devotion By Considering Attentively The Proportions Of A Temple.

While Grief Is Fresh, Every Attempt To Divert Only Irritates. You Must Wait Till It Be Digested, And Then Amusement Will Dissipate The Remains Of It.

Come, Let Me Know What It Is That Makes A Scotch Man Happy!

Indolence Is The Devil's Cushion.

Few Faults Of Style, Whether Real Or Imaginary, Excite The Malignity Of A More Numerous Class Of Readers, Than The Use Of Hard Words.