Cucumber Should Be Well Sliced, Dressed With

New Arts Are Long In The World Before Poets Describe Them; For They Borrow Everything From Their Predecessors, And Commonly Derive Very Little From Nature Or From Life.

The Fountain Of Contentment Must Spring Up In The Mind.

I Am Not Yet So Lost In Lexicography, As To Forget That Words Are The Daughters Of The Earth, And That Things Are The Sons Of Heaven. Language Is Only The Instrument Of Science, And Words Are But The Signs Of Ideas: I Wish, However, That The Instrument Might Be Less Apt To Decay, And That Signs Might Be Permanent, Like The Things Which They Denote.

It Is Better To Live Rich Than To Die Rich.

The Trade Of Advertising Is Now So Near To Perfection That It Is Not Easy To Propose Any Improvement. But As Every Art Ought To Be Exercized In Due Subordination To The Public Good, I Cannot But Propose It As A Moral Question To These Masters Of The Public Ear, Whether They Do Not Sometimes Play Too Wantonly With Our Passions.