The Finest Landscape In The

The Fountain Of Contentment Must Spring Up In The Mind.

If Misery Be The Effect Of Virtue, It Ought To Be Reverenced; If Of Ill-fortune, To Be Pitied; And If Of Vice, Not To Be Insulted, Because It Is Perhaps Itself A Punishment Adequate To The Crime By Which It Was Produced.

It Is Very Strange, And Very Melancholy, That The Paucity Of Human Pleasures Should Persuade Us Ever To Call Hunting One Of Them.

Modern Writers Are The Moons Of Literature; They Shine With Reflected Light, With Light Borrowed From The Ancients.

A Quibble Is To Shakespeare What Luminous Vapours Are To The Traveller: He Follows It At All Adventures; It Is Sure To Lead Him Out Of His Way And Sure To Engulf Him In The Mire.