Let Age, Not Envy, Draw Wrinkles On

I Had Rather Stand The Shock Of A Basilisk Than The Fury Of A Merciless Pen.

To Me Avarice Seems Not So Much A Vice As A Deplorable Piece Of Madness.

Not To Be Content With Life Is The Unsatisfactory State Of Those Which Destroy Themselves; Who Being Afraid To Live, Run Blindly Upon Their Own Death, Which No Man Fears By Experience.

The Heart Of Man Is The Place The Devil Dwells In; I Feel Sometimes A Hell Within Myself.

Where We Desire To Be Informed 'tis Good To Contest With Men Above Ourselves; But To Confirm And Establish Our Opinions, 'tis Best To Argue With Judgments Below Our Own, That The Frequent Spoils And Victories Over Their Reasons May Settle In Ourselves An Esteem And Confirmed Opinion Of Our Own.