We May Have Uneasy Feelings

It Is Astonishing That Any Man Can Forbear Enquiring Seriously Whether There Is A God; Whether God Is Just; Whether This Life Is The Only State Of Existence.

The Task Of An Author Is, Either To Teach What Is Not Known, Or To Recommend Known Truths By His Manner Of Adorning Them; Either To Let New Light In Upon The Mind, And Open New Scenes To The Prospect, Or To Vary The Dress And Situation Of Common Objects, So As To Give Them Fresh Grace And More Powerful Attractions, To Spread Such Flowers Over The Regions Through Which The Intellect Has Already Made Its Progress, As May Tempt It To Return, And Take A Second View Of Things Hastily Passed Over, Or Negligently Regarded.

Censure Is Willingly Indulged, Because It Always Implies Some Superiority: Men Please Themselves With Imagining That They Have Made A Deeper Search, Or Wider Survey Than Others, And Detected Faults And Follies Which Escape Vulgar Observation.

I Have No More Pleasure In Hearing A Man Attempting Wit And Failing, Than In Seeing A Man Trying To Leap Over A Ditch And Tumbling Into It

Power Is Gradually Stealing Away From The Many To The Few, Because The Few Are More Vigilant And Consistent.