Reproof Should Not Exhaust Its Power Upon

To Exact Of Every Man Who Writes That He Should Say Something New, Would Be To Reduce Authors To A Small Number; To Oblige The Most Fertile Genius To Say Only What Is New, Would Be To Contract His Volumes To A Few Pages. Yet, Surely, There Ought To Be Some Bounds To Repetition; Libraries Ought No More To Be Heaped For Ever With The Same Thoughts Differently Expressed, Than With The Same Books Differently Decorated.

A Man Of Sense And Education Should Meet A Suitable Companion In A Wife. It Is A Miserable Thing When The Conversation Can Only Be Such As Whether The Mutton Should Be Boiled Or Roasted, And Probably A Dispute About That.

The Ambition Of Superior Sensibility And Superior Eloquence Disposes The Lovers Of Arts To Receive Rapture At One Time, And Communicate It At Another; And Each Labors First To Impose Upon Himself And Then To Propagate The Imposture.

Art Hath An Enemy Called Ignorance.

The Gratification Which Affluence Of Wealth, Extent Of Power, And Eminence Of Reputation Confer, Must Be Always, By Their Own Nature, Confined To A Very Small Number; And The Life Of The Greater Part Of Mankind Must Be Lost In Empty Wishes And Painful Comparisons, Were Not The Balm Of Philosophy Shed Upon Us, And Our Discontent At The Appearances Of Unequal Distribution Soothed And Appeased.