No Man Reads A Book Of Science

Politeness Is One Of Those Advantages Which We Never Estimate Rightly But By The Inconvenience Of Its Loss.

Piety Practiced In Solitude, Like The Flower That Blooms In The Desert, May Give Its Fragrance To The Winds Of Heaven, And Delight Those Unbodied Spirits That Survey The Works Of God And The Actions Of Men; But It Bestows No Assistance Upon Earthly Beings, And However Free From Taints Of Impurity, Yet Wants The Sacred Splendor Of Beneficence.

Pain And Disease Awaken Us To Convictions Which Are Necessary To Our Moral Condition.

Hope Is Itself A Species Of Happiness.

Was There Ever Yet Anything Written By Mere Man That Was Wished Longer By Its Readers, Excepting Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, And The Pilgrim's Progress?