The Life Of Man Is Of No

Reason Is, And Ought Only To Be The Slave Of The Passions.

The Great Charm Of Poetry Consists In Lively Pictures Of The Sublime Passions, Magnanimity, Courage, Disdain Of Fortune; Or Thoseof The Tender Affections, Love And Friendship; Which Warm The Heart, And Diffuse Over It Similar Sentiments And Emotions.

When I Turn My Eye Inward, I Find Nothing But Doubt And Ignorance. All The World Conspires To Oppose And Contradict Me; Though Such Is My Weakness, That I Feel All My Opinions Loosen And Fall Of Themselves, When Unsupported By The Approbation Of Others.

Where Ambition Can Cover Its Enterprises, Even To The Person Himself, Under The Appearance Of Principle, It Is The Most Incurable And Inflexible Of Passions

It Is Certain That The Easy And Obvious Philosophy Will Always, With The Generality Of Mankind, Have Preference Above The Accurate.