From All Our Observations We May Collect

Surely A Long Life Must Be Somewhat Tedious, Since We Are Forced To Call In So Many Trifling Things To Help Rid Us Of Our Time, Which Will Never Return.

Glory, The Casual Gift Of Thoughtless Crowds! Glory, The Bribe Of Avaricious Virtue!

Men Who Have Flattered Themselves Into This Opinion Of Their Own Abilities, Look Down On All Who Waste Their Lives Over Books, As A Race Of Inferior Beings Condemned By Nature To Perpetual Pupilage, And Fruitlessly Endeavouring To Remedy Their Barrenness By Incessant Cultivation, Or Succour Their Feebleness By Subsidiary Strength. They Presume That None Would Be More Industrious Than They, If They Were Not More Sensible Of Deficiences; And Readily Conclude, That He Who Places No Confidence In His Own Powers Owes His Modesty Only To His Weakness.

He That Never Thinks Can Never Be Wise.

Madam, Before You Flatter A Man So Grossly To His Face, You Should Consider Whether Or Not Your Flattery Is Worth His Having.