Perhaps Man Is The Only Being That

The Happiness Of London Is Not To Be Conceived But By Those Who Have Been In It.

...a Common Observation, That Few Are Mended By Imprisonment, And That He, Whose Crimes Have Made Confinement Necessary, Seldom Makes Any Other Use Of His Enlargement, Than To Do, With Greater Cunning, What He Did Before With Less.

It Is Much Easier Not To Write Like A Man Than To Write Like A Woman.

Like An Image In A Dream The World Is Troubled By Love, Hatred, And Other Poisons. So Long As The Dream Lasts, The Image Appears To Be Real; But On Awaking It Vanishes.

It Is Indeed Not Easy To Distinguish Affectation From Habit; He That Has Once Studiously Developed A Style, Rarely Writes Afterwards With Complete Ease.