Faults And Defects Every Work Of Man

It Is Commonly Observed, That When Two Englishmen Meet, Their First Talk Is Of The Weather; They Are In Haste To Tell Each Other, What Each Must Already Know, That It Is Hot Or Cold, Bright Or Cloudy, Windy Or Calm.

I Know Not Any Crime So Great That A Man Could Contrive To Commit As Poisoning The Sources Of Eternal Truth.

The Great End Of Prudence Is To Give Cheerfulness To Those Hours Which Splendour Cannot Gild, And Acclamation Cannot Exhilarate; Those Soft Intervals Of Unbended Amusement, In Which A Man Shrinks To His Natural Dimensions, And Throws Aside The Ornaments Or Disguises Which He Feels In Privacy To Be Useless Incumbrances, And To Lose All Effect When They Become Familiar. To Be Happy At Home Is The Ultimate Result Of All Ambition, The End To Which Every Enterprise And Labour Tends, And Of Which Every Desire Prompts The Prosecution.

Though The Discoveries Or Acquisitions Of Man Are Not Always Adequate To The Expectations Of His Pride, They Are At Least Sufficient To Animate His Industry.

The Belief Of Immortality Is Impressed Upon All Men, And All Men Act Under An Impression Of It, However They May Talk, And Though, Perhaps, They May Be Scarcely Sensible Of It.