The Great End Of All

There Is Not To Be Found, In All History, Any Miracle Attested By A Sufficient Number Of Men, Of Such Unquestioned Good Sense, Education And Learning, As To Secure Us Against All Delusion In Themselves.

Art May Make A Suite Of Clothes, But Nature Must Produce A Man.

Never Literary Attempt Was More Unfortunate Than My Treatise Of Human Nature. It Fell Dead-born From The Press.

An Infinite Number Of Real Parts Of Time, Passing In Succession, And Exhausted One After Another, Appears So Evident A Contradiction, That No Man, One Should Think, Whose Judgement Is Not Corrupted, Instead Of Being Improved, By The Sciences, Would Ever Be Able To Admit Of It.

Methinks I Am Like A Man, Who Having Struck On Many Shoals, And Having Narrowly Escap'd Shipwreck In Passing A Small Frith, Has Yet The Temerity To Put Out To Sea In The Same Leaky Weather-beaten Vessel, And Even Carries His Ambition So Far As To Think Of Compassing The Globe Under These Disadvantageous Circumstances.