The True Art Of Memory Is The

You Cannot, By All The Lecturing In The World, Enable A Man To Make A Shoe.

Shakespeare Never Had More Than 6 Lines Together Without A Fault.

There Is No Idleness, By Which We Are So Easily Seduced, As That Which Dignifies Itself By The Appearance Of Business, And By Making The Loiterer Imagine That He Has Something To Do Which Must Not Be Neglected, Keeps Him In Perpetual Agitation, And Hurries Him Rapidly From Place To Place.

I Am Not Yet So Lost In Lexicography, As To Forget That Words Are The Daughters Of The Earth, And That Things Are The Sons Of Heaven. Language Is Only The Instrument Of Science, And Words Are But The Signs Of Ideas: I Wish, However, That The Instrument Might Be Less Apt To Decay, And That Signs Might Be Permanent, Like The Things Which They Denote.

He Who Aspires To Be A Serious Wine Drinker Must Drink Claret.