You Can Never Be Wise

The Man Who Is Asked By An Author What He Thinks Of His Work Is Put To The Torture And Is Not Obliged To Speak The Truth.

Luncheon: As Much Food As One's Hand Can Hold.

A Transition From An Author's Book To His Conversation Is Too Often Like An Entrance Into A Large City, After A Distant Prospect. Remotely, We See Nothing But Spires Of Temples And Turrets Of Palaces, And Imagine It The Residence Of Splendour, Grandeur, And Magnificence; But When We Have Passed The Gates, We Find It Perplexed With Narrow Passages, Disgraced With Despicable Cottages, Embarrassed With Obstructions, And Clouded With Smoke.

Such Is The State Of Life, That None Are Happy But By The Anticipation Of Change: The Change Itself Is Nothing; When We Have Made It, The Next Wish Is To Change Again.

Invention Is Almost The Only Literary Labour Which Blindness Cannot Obstruct.