The Unhappy Of All Men Is He

We Need Only Reflect On What Has Been Prov'd At Large, That We Are Never Sensible Of Any Connexion Betwixt Causes And Effects, And That 'tis Only By Our Experience Of Their Constant Conjunction, We Can Arrive At Any Knowledge Of This Relation.

All This Creative Power Of The Mind Amounts To No More Than The Faculty Of Compounding, Transposing, Augmenting, Or Diminishing The Materials Afforded Us The By Senses And Experience.

In Our Reasonings Concerning Matter Of Fact, There Are All Imaginable Degrees Of Assurance, From The Highest Certainty To The Lowest Species Of Moral Evidence. A Wise Man, Therefore, Proportions His Belief To The Evidence.

If We Confine Ourselves To A General And Distant Reflection On The Ills Of Human Life, That Can Have No Effect To Prepare Us For Them. If By Close And Intense Meditation We Render Them Present And Intimate To Us, That Is The True Secret For Poisoning All Our Pleasures, And Rendering Us Perpetually Miserable.

Self-denial Is A Monkish Virtue.