The World Is Like A Board With

All Those Who Write Either Explicitly Or By Insinuation Against The Dignity, Freedom, And Immortality Of The Human Soul, May So Far Forth Be Justly Said To Unhinge The Principles Of Morality, And Destroy The Means Of Making Men Reasonably Virtuous.

I Am Apt To Think, If We Knew What It Was To Be An Angel For One Hour, We Should Return To This World, Though It Were To Sit On The Brightest Throne In It, With Vastly More Loathing And Reluctance Than We Would Now Descend Into A Loathsome Dungeon Or Sepulchre.

The Eye By Long Use Comes To See Even In The Darkest Cavern: And There Is No Subject So Obscure But We May Discern Some Glimpse Of Truth By Long Poring On It.

Upon The Whole, I Am Inclined To Think That The Far Greater Part, If Not All, Of Those Difficulties Which Have Hitherto Amused Philosophers, And Blocked Up The Way To Knowledge, Are Entirely Owing To Our Selves. That We Have First Raised A Dust, And Then Complain, We Cannot See.

To Be Is To Be Perceived (esse Est Percipi)." Or, "if A Tree Falls In The Forest And No One Is There To Hear It, Does It Make A Sound?