The Most Fatal Disease Of Friendship Is

...it Will Not Always Happen That The Success Of A Poet Is Proportionate To His Labor.

Fear Is Implanted In Us As A Preservative From Evil But Its Duty, Like That Of Other Passions, Is Not To Overbear Reason, But To Assist It. It Should Not Be Suffered To Tyrannize In The Imagination, To Raise Phantoms Of Horror, Or To Beset Life With Supernumerary Distresses.

There Is In This World No Real Delight (excepting Those Of Sensuality), But Exchange Of Ideas In Conversation.

In A Time Of War The Nation Is Always Of One Mind, Eager To Hear Something Good Of Themselves And Ill Of The Enemy. At This Time The Task Of The News-writer Is Easy; They Have Nothing To Do But To Tell That A Battle Is Expected, And Afterwards That A Battle Has Been Fought, In Which We And Our Friends, Whether Conquering Or Conquered, Did All, And Our Enemies Did Nothing.

Perhaps Man Is The Only Being That Can Properly Be Called Idle.