I Will Be Conquered; I Will Not

He That Condemns Himself To Compose On A Stated Day Will Often Bring To His Task Attention Dissipated, A Memory Embarrassed, An Imagination Overwhelmed, A Mind Distracted With Anxieties, A Body Languishing With Disease: He Will Labour On A Barren Topic Till It Is Too Late To Change It; Or, In The Ardour Of Invention, Diffuse His Thoughts Into Wild Exuberance, Which The Pressing Hour Of Publication Cannot Suffer Judgment To Examine Or Reduce.

In Solitude We Have Our Dreams To Ourselves, And In Company We Agree To Dream In Concert.

All History Was At First Oral.

The History Of Mankind Is Little Else Than A Narrative Of Designs Which Have Failed And Hopes That Have Been Disappointed.

No Man Can Taste The Fruits Of Autumn While He Is Delighting His Scent With The Flowers Of Spring.