Deign On The Passing World To Turn

Ignorance Is Mere Privation By Which Nothing Can Be Produced: It Is A Vacuity In Which The Soul Sits Motionless And Torpid For Want Of Attraction: And, Without Knowing Why, We Always Rejoice When We Learn, And Grieve When We Forget.

The Return Of My Birthday, If I Remember It, Fills Me With Thoughts Which It Seems To Be The General Care Of Humanity To Escape.

Confidence Is A Plant Of Slow Growth; Especially In An Aged Bosom

Criticism Is A Study By Which Men Grow Important And Formidable At Very Small Expense. The Power Of Invention Has Been Conferred By Nature Upon Few, And The Labour Of Learning Those Sciences Which May, By Mere Labour, Be Obtained, Is Too Great To Be Willingly Endured; But Every Man Can Exert Some Judgment As He Has Upon The Works Of Others; And He Whom Nature Has Made Weak, And Idleness Keeps Ignorant, May Yet Support His Vanity By The Name Of Critic.

Of A Thousand Shavers, Two Do Not Shave So Much Alike As Not To Be Distinguished.