Wicked Companions Invite Us To Hell.

The Dignity Of History.

Good-humor Will Even Go So Far As Often To Supply The Lack Of Wit.

Now In Reality, The World Has Paid Too Great A Compliment To Critics, And Has Imagined Them To Be Men Of Much Greater Profundity Than They Really Are.

There Is Perhaps No Surer Mark Of Folly, Than To Attempt To Correct Natural Infirmities Of Those We Love.

Want Compassion Is Not To Be Numbered Among The General Faults Of Mankind. The Black Ingredient Which Fouls Our Disposition Is Envy. Hence Our Eyes, It Is To Be Feared, Are Seldom Turned Up To Those Who Are Manifestly Greater, Better, Wiser, Or Happier Than Ourselves, Without Some Degree Of Malignity, We Commonly Look Downward On The Mean And Miserable With Sufficient Benevolence And Pity.