Life Affords No Higher Pleasure Than That

We Consider Ourselves As Defective In Memory, Either Because We Remember Less Than We Desire, Or Less Than We Suppose Others To Remember.

I Had Done All That I Could, And No Man Is Well Pleased To Have His All Neglected, Be It Ever So Little.

A Successful Author Is Equally In Danger Of The Diminution Of His Fame, Whether He Continues Or Ceases To Write. The Regard Of The Public Is Not To Be Kept But By Tribute, And The Remembrance Of Past Service Will Quickly Languish Unless Successive Performances Frequently Revive It. Yet In Every New Attempt There Is New Hazard, And There Are Few Who Do Not, At Some Unlucky Time, Injure Their Own Characters By Attempting To Enlarge Them.

Health Is Certainly More Valuable Than Money, Because It Is By Health That Money Is Procured.

It Is Natural For Every Man Uninstructed To Murmur At His Condition, Because, In The General Infelicity Of Life, He Feels His Own Miseries Without Knowing That They Are Common To All The Rest Of The Species; And, Therefore, Though He Will Not Be Less Sensible Of Pain By Being Told That Others Are Equally Tormented, He Will At Least Be Freed From The Temptation Of Seeking, By Perpetual Changes, That Ease Which Is No Where To Be Found, And Though His Diseases Still Continue, He Escapes The Hazard Of Exasperating It By Remedies.