It Is Very Strange, And

It Is Commonly Supposed That The Uniformity Of A Studious Life Affords No Matter For Narration: But The Truth Is, That Of The Most Studious Life A Great Part Passes Without Study. An Author Partakes Of The Common Condition Of Humanity; He Is Born And Married Like Another Man; He Has Hopes And Fears, Expectations And Disappointments, Griefs And Joys, And Friends And Enemies, Like A Courtier Or A Statesman; Nor Can I Conceive Why His Affairs Shuld Not Excite Curiosity As Much As The Whisper Of A Drawing-room, Or The Factions Of A Camp.

I Inherited A Vile Melancholy From My Father, Which Has Made Me Mad All My Life, At Least Not Sober.

Sir, I Have Found You An Argument; But I Am Not Obliged To Find You An Understanding.

It Is To Be Steadily Inculcated, That Virtue Is The Highest Proof Of Understanding, And The Only Solid Basis Of Greatness.

While Grief Is Fresh, Every Attempt To Divert Only Irritates. You Must Wait Till It Be Digested, And Then Amusement Will Dissipate The Remains Of It.