Life Protracted Is Protracted Woe.

Complaints Are Vain; We Will Try To. Do Better Another Time. To-morrow And To-morrow. A Few Designs And A Few Failures, And The Time Of Designing Is Past.

All Power Of Fancy Over Reason Is A Degree Of Madness.

A Voyage To The Moon, However Romantick And Absurd The Scheme May Now Appear, Since The Properties Of Air Have Been Better Understood, Seemed Highly Probable To Many Of The Aspiring Wits In The Last Century

No Wonder, Sir, That He Is Vain; A Man Who Is Perpetually Flattered In Every Mode That Can Be Conceived. So Many Bellows Have Blown The Fire, That One Wonders He Is Not By This Time Become A Cinder.

A Small Country Town Is Not The Place In Which One Would Choose To Quarrel With A Wife; Every Human Being In Such Places Is A Spy.