Books Are A Languid Pleasure.

Repentance Is But A Denying Of Our Will, And An Opposition Of Our Fantasies.

Tis So Much To Be A King, That He Only Is So By Being So.

We Should Rather Examine, Who Is Better Learned, Than Who Is More Learned.

If Atoms Do, By Chance, Happen To Combine Themselves Into So Many Shapes, Why Have They Never Combined Together To Form A House Or A Slipper? By The Same Token, Why Do We Not Believe That If Innumerable Letters Of The Greek Alphabet Were Poured All Over The Market-place They Would Eventually Happen To Form The Text Of The Iliad?

There Is More Ado To Interpret Interpretations Than To Interpret Things, And More Books Upon Books Than Upon Any Other Subject; We Do Nothing But Comment Upon One Another. Every Place Swarms With Commentaries; Of Authors There Is Great Scarcity.