Poetry Is The Art Of Substantiating Shadows,

Hypocrisy Is No Cheap Vice; Nor Can Our Natural Temper Be Masked For Many Years Together.

Men Are As Much Blinded By The Extremes Of Misery As By The Extremes Of Prosperity.

Is It In Destroying And Pulling Down That Skill Is Displayed? The Shallowest Understanding, The Rudest Hand, Is More Than Equal To That Task.

By Hating Vices Too Much, They Come To Love Men Too Little.

By This Unprincipled Facility Of Changing The State As Often, And As Much, And In As Many Ways As There Are Floating Fancies Or Fashions, The Whole Chain And Continuity Of The Commonwealth Would Be Broken. No One Generation Could Link With The Other. Men Would Become Little Better Than The Flies Of A Summer.