Small Habits Well Pursued Betimes May Reach

The Wretch Who Digs The Mine For Bread, Or Ploughs, That Others May Be Fed, Feels Less Fatigued Than That Decreed To Him Who Cannot Think Or Read.

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs; Since Life's Best Joys Consist In Peace And Ease, And Though But Few Can Serve, Yet All May Please; On, Let Th' Ungentle Spirit Learn From Hence, A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.

We Contrive To Make Revenge Itself Look Like Religion. We Call Down Thunder On Many A Head Under Pretence, That Those On Whom We Invoke It Are God's Enemies, When Perhaps We Invoke It Because They Are Ours.

Who Are Those Ever Multiplying Authors That With Unparalleled Fecundity Are Overstocking The World With Their Quick Succeeding Progeny? They Are Novel-writers.

In Grief We Know The Worst Of What We Feel But Who Can Tell The End Of What We Fear?