Poetry Is A Kind Of Ingenious Nonsense

Smiling Always With A Never Fading Serenity Of Countenance, And Flourishing In An Immortal Youth.

Let Us Consider That Swearing Is A Sin Of All Others Peculiarly Clamorous, And Provocative Of Divine Judgment.

The Reading Of Books, What Is It But Conversing With The Wisest Men Of All Ages And All Countries.

Nature Has Concatenated Our Fortunes And Affections Together With Indissoluble Bands Of Mutual Sympathy.

There Do Remain Dispersed In The Soil Of Human Nature Divers Seeds Of Goodness, Of Benignity, Of Ingenuity, Which, Being Cherished, Excited, And Quickened By Good Culture, Do, By Common Experience, Thrust Out Flowers Very Lovely, And Yield Fruits Very Pleasant Of Virtue And Goodness.