In All Pointed Sentences, Some Degree Of

He Said That Few People Had Intellectual Resources Sufficient To Forgo The Pleasures Of Wine. They Could Not Otherwise Contrive How To Fill The Interval Between Dinner And Supper.

Want Of Tenderness Is Want Of Parts, And Is No Less A Proof Of Stupidity Than Depravity.

Genius Now And Then Produces A Lucky Trifle. We Still Read The Dove Of Anacreon, And Sparrow Of Catullus; And A Writer Naturally Pleases Himself With A Performance Which Owes Nothing To The Subject.

Every Reader Should Remember The Diffidence Of Socrates, And Repair By His Candour The Injuries Of Time: He Should Impute The Seeming Defects Of His Author To Some Chasm Of Intelligence, And Suppose That The Sense Which Is Now Weak Was Once Forcible

The Violence Of War Admits No Distinction; The Lance, That Is Lifted At Guilt And Power, Will Sometimes Fall On Innocence And Gentleness.