No Man Is A Hypocrite In His

There Is No Wisdom In Useless And Hopeless Sorrow, But There Is Something In It So Like Virtue, That He Who Is Wholly Without It Cannot Be Loved.

Vanity Is So Frequently The Apparent Motive Of Advice, That We, For The Most Part, Summon Our Powers To Oppose It Without Any Very Accurate Inquiry Whether It Is Right.

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 A Hopeless Endeavour To Unite The Contrarieties Of Spring And Winter; It Is Unjust To Claim The Privileges Of Age, And Retain The Play-things Of Childhood.

Pendantry Is The Unseasonable Ostentation Of Learning. It May Be Discovered Either In The Choice Of A Subject Or In The Manner D Treating It.