Truth Is The Cry Of All, But

Upon The Whole, I Am Inclined To Think That The Far Greater Part, If Not All, Of Those Difficulties Which Have Hitherto Amused Philosophers, And Blocked Up The Way To Knowledge, Are Entirely Owing To Our Selves. That We Have First Raised A Dust, And Then Complain, We Cannot See.

For My Own Private Satisfaction, I Had Rather Be Master Of My Own Time Than Wear A Diadem.

What Is Mind? No Matter. What Is Matter? Never Mind.

He Who Says There Is No Such Thing As An Honest Man, You May Be Sure Is Himself A Knave.

Every Knave Is A Thorough Knave, And A Thorough Knave Is A Knave Throughout.