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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.

-Samuel Johnson

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The Task Of An

Samuel Johnson

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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.

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Fears Of The Brave And Follies Of The Wise.

The True Measure Of A Man Is How He Treats Someone Who Can Do Him Absolutely No Good.

Knowledge Always Desires Increase, It Is Like Fire, Which Must First Be Kindled By Some External Agent, But Which Will Afterwards Propagate Itself.

Every Man Is Rich Or Poor According To The Proportion Between His Desires And His Enjoyments; Any Enlargement Of Wishes Is Therefore Equally Destructive To Happiness With The Diminution Of Possession, And He That Teaches Another To Long For What He Never Shall Obtain Is No Less An Enemy To His Quiet Than If He Had Robbed Him Of Part Of His Patrimony

It Is Our First Duty To Serve Society.

Leisure And Curiosity Might Soon Make Great Advances In Useful Knowledge, Were They Not Diverted By Minute Emulation And Laborious Trifles.

Still We Love The Evil We Do, Until We Suffer It.

I Would Not Give Half A Guinea To Live Under One Form Of Government Rather Than Another. It Is Of No Moment To The Happiness Of An Individual.

Flattery Pleases Very Generally. In The First Place, The Flatterer May Think What He Says To Be True; But, In The Second Place, Whether He Thinks So Or Not, He Certainly Thinks Those Whom He Flatters Of Consequence Enough To Be Flattered.

The End Of Writing Is To Instruct; The End Of Poetry Is To Instruct By Pleasing.

A Man Who Is Good Enough To Go To Heaven Is Good Enough To Be A Clergyman.

Not Good Enough

The Hopes Of Zeal Are Not Wholly Groundless.

To Tell Your Own Secrets Is Generally Folly, But That Folly Is Without Guilt; To Communicate Those With Which We Are Intrusted Is Always Treachery, And Treachery For The Most Part Combined With Folly.

I Wish There Were Some Cure, Like The Lover's Leap, For All Heads Of Which Some Single Idea Has Obtained An Unreasonable And Irregular Possession.

The Duty Of Criticism Is Neither To Depreciate Nor Dignify By Partial Representations, But To Hold Out The Light Of Reason, Whatever It May Discover; And To Promulgate The Determinations Of Truth, Whatever She Shall Dictate

The True Art Of Memory Is The Art Of Attention.

A Vow Is A Snare For Sin

A Minute Analysis Of Life At Once Destroys That Splendor Which Dazzles The Imagination. Whatsoever Grandeur Can Display, Or Luxury Enjoy, Is Procured By Offices Of Which The Mind Shrinks From The Contemplation. All The Delicacies Of The Table May Be Traced Back To The Shambles And The Dunghill; All Magnificence Of Building Was Hewn From The Quarry, And All The Pomp Of Ornament Dug From Among The Damps And Darkness Of The Mine.

Sir, I Do Not Call A Gamester A Dishonest Man; But I Call Him An Unsociable Man, An Unprofitable Man. Gaming Is A Mode Of Transferring Property Without Producing Any Intermediate Good.

The Richest Author That Ever Grazed The Common Of Literature.

Sorrow Is The Mere Rust Of The Soul. Activity Will Cleanse And Brighten It.

How Small Of All That Human Hearts Endure, That Part Which Laws Or Kings Can Cause Or Cure! Still To Ourselves In Every Place Consigned, Our Own Felicity We Make Or Find. With Secret Course, Which No Loud Storms Annoy, Glides The Smooth Current Of Domestic Joy.

So Different Are The Colors Of Life, As We Look Forward To The Future, Or Backward To The Past; And So Different The Opinions And Sentiments Which This Contrariety Of Appearance Naturally Produces, That The Conversation Of The Old And Young Ends Generally With Contempt Or Pity On Either Side.

Life Is Short. The Sooner That A Man Begins To Enjoy His Wealth The Better.

Though It Is Evident, That Not More Than One Age Or People Can Deserve The Censure Of Being More Averse From Learning Than Any Other, Yet At All Times Knowledge Must Have Encountered Impediments, And Wit Been Mortified With Contempt, Or Harassed With Persecution.

Age Is Rarely Despised But When It Is, Contemptible.

He Was So Generally Civil, That Nobody Thanked Him For It.

We Consider Ourselves As Defective In Memory, Either Because We Remember Less Than We Desire, Or Less Than We Suppose Others To Remember.

There Is A Certain Degree Of Temptation Which Will Overcome Any Virtue. Now, In So Far As You Approach Temptation To A Man, You Do Him An Injury; And, If He Is Overcome, You Share His Guilt.

A Man Of Sense And Education Should Meet A Suitable Companion In A Wife. It Is A Miserable Thing When The Conversation Can Only Be Such As Whether The Mutton Should Be Boiled Or Roasted, And Probably A Dispute About That.

The Seeds Of Knowledge May Be Planted In Solitude, But Must Be Cultivated In Public.

The Expense Is Damnable, The Position Is Ridiculous, And The Pleasure Fleeting.

If We Estimate Dignity By Immediate Usefulness, Agriculture Is Undoubtedly The First And Noblest Science.

The Dependant Who Cultivates Delicacy In Himself Very Little Consults His Own Tranquillity.

The First Years Of Man Must Make Provision For The Last.

The Number Of Such As Live Without The Ardour Of Inquiry Is Very Small, Though Many Content Themselves With Cheap Amusements, And Waste Their Lives In Researches Of No Importance.

Probably No One Will Ever Know Whether It Is Better To Wear A Nightcap Or Not.

Such Is The Constitution Of Man That Labor May Be Said To Be Its Own Re-ward.

As Every Writer Has His Use, Every Writer Ought To Have His Patrons; And Since No Man, However High He May Now Stand, Can Be Certain That He Shall Not Be Soon Thrown Down From His Elevation By Criticism Or Caprice, The Common Interest Of Learning Requires That Her Sons Should Cease From Intestine Hostilities, And, Instead Of Sacrificing Each Other To Malice And Contempt, Endeavour To Avert Persecution From The Meanest Of Their Fraternity.

The Diversion Of Baiting An Author Has The Sanction Of All Ages And Nations, And Is More Lawful Than The Sport Of Teasing Other Animals, Because, For The Most Part, He Comes Voluntarily To The Stake, Furnished, As He Imagines, By The Patron Powers Of Literature, With Resistless Weapons, And Impenetrable Armour, With The Mail Of The Boar Of Erymanth, And The Paws Of The Lion Of Nemea.

A Blaze First Pleases And Then Tires The Sight.

I Am Willing To Love All Of Mankind, Except An American.

Integrity Without Knowledge Is Weak And Useless, And Knowledge Without Integrity Is Dangerous And Dreadful.

A Man Is Not Obliged Honestly To Answer A Question Which Should Not Properly Be Put.

There Is, Indeed, Nothing That So Much Seduces Reason From Vigilance, As The Thought Of Passing Life With An Amiable Woman.

The Great End Of Prudence Is To Give Cheerfulness To Those Hours Which Splendour Cannot Gild, And Acclamation Cannot Exhilarate; Those Soft Intervals Of Unbended Amusement, In Which A Man Shrinks To His Natural Dimensions, And Throws Aside The Ornaments Or Disguises Which He Feels In Privacy To Be Useless Incumbrances, And To Lose All Effect When They Become Familiar. To Be Happy At Home Is The Ultimate Result Of All Ambition, The End To Which Every Enterprise And Labour Tends, And Of Which Every Desire Prompts The Prosecution.

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.

The Wickedness Of A Loose Or Profane Author Is More Atrocious Than That Of A Giddy Libertine Or Drunken Ravisher, Not Only Because It Extends Its Effects Wider, As A Pestilence That Taints The Air Is More Destructive Than Poison Infused In A Draught, But Because It Is Committed With Cool Deliberation.

When We See Our Enemies And Friends Gliding Away Before Us, Let Us Not Forget That We Are Subject To The General Law Of Mortality, And Shall Soon Be Where Our Doom Will Be Fixed Forever.

Frequent Discontent Must Proceed From Frequent Hardships.

Sir, He [bolingbroke] Was A Scoundrel And A Coward: A Scoundrel For Charging A Blunderbuss Against Religion And Morality; A Coward, Because He Had Not Resolution To Fire It Off Himself, But Left Half A Crown To A Beggarly Scotsman To Draw The Trigger At His Death.

Every Man That Has Felt Pain Knows How Little All Other Comforts Can Gladden Him To Whom Health Is Denied. Yet Who Is There Does Not Sometimes Hazard It For The Enjoyment Of An Hour?

He That Has Once Concluded It Lawful To Resist Power, When It Wants Merit, Will Soon Find A Want Of Merit, To Justify His Resistance To Power.

To Be Prejudiced Is Always To Be Weak

No Man Was More Foolish When He Had Not A Pen In His Hand, Or More Wise When He Had

Dishonor Waits On Perfidy. A Man Should Blush To Think A Falsehood; It Is The Crime Of Cowards.

When Once The Forms Of Civility Are Violated, There Remains Little Hope Of Return To Kindness Or Decency.

Every Man Is Of Importance To Himself, And, Therefore, In His Own Opinion, To Others; And, Supposing The World Already Acquainted With His Pleasures And His Pains, Is Perhaps The First To Publish Injuries Or Misfortunes Which Had Never Been Known Unless Related By Himself, And At Which Those That Hear Them Will Only Laugh, For No Man Sympathises With The Sorrows Of Vanity.

Sir, A Man Who Cannot Get To Heaven In A Green Coat, Will Not Find His Way Thither The Sooner In A Grey One.

He That Shall Peruse The Political Pamphlets Of Any Past Reign Will Wonder Why They Were So Eagerly Read, Or So Loudly Praised.

Genius Now And Then Produces A Lucky Trifle. We Still Read The Dove Of Anacreon, And Sparrow Of Catullus; And A Writer Naturally Pleases Himself With A Performance Which Owes Nothing To The Subject.

If We Require More Perfection From Women Than From Ourselves, It Is Doing Them Honor.

It Has Long Been Observed, That An Atheist Has No Just Reason For Endeavouring Conversions; And Yet None Harass Those Minds Which They Can Influence, With More Importunity Of Solicitation To Adopt Their Opinions. In Proportion As They Doubt The Truth Of Their Own Doctrines, They Are Desirous To Gain The Attestation Of Another Understanding: And Industriously Labour To Win A Proselyte, And Eagerly Catch At The Slightest Pretense To Dignify Their Sect With A Distinguished Name.

By The Consultation Of Books, Whether Of Dead Or Living Authors, Many Temptations To Petulance And Opposition, Which Occur In Oral Conferences, Are Avoided. An Author Cannot Obtrude His Service Unasked, Nor Can Be Often Suspected Of Any Malignant Intention To Insult His Readers With His Knowledge Or His Wit. Yet So Prevalent Is The Habit Of Comparing Ourselves With Others, While They Remain Within The Reach Of Our Passions, That Books Are Seldom Read With Complete Impartiality, But By Those From Whom The Writer Is Placed At Such A Distance That His Life Or Death Is Indifferent.

Curiosity Is, In Great And Generous Minds, The First Passion And The Last; And Perhaps Always Predominates In Proportion To The Strength Of The Contemplative Faculties. He Who Easily Comprehends All That Is Before Him, And Soon Exhausts Any Single Subject, Is Always Eager For New Inquiries; And In Proportion As The Intellectual Eye Takes In A Wider Prospect, It Must Be Gratified With Variety, By More Rapid Flights And Bolder Excursions.

The Happiness Of Building Lasted But A Little While, For Though I Love To Spend, I Hate To Be Cheated; And I Soon Found, That To Build Is To Be Robbed.

No Man Should Attempt To Teach Others What He Has Never Learned Himself

The Commodiousness Of Money Is Indeed Great; But There Are Some Advantages Which Money Cannot Buy, And Which Therefore No Wise Man Will By The Love Of Money Be Tempted To Forego.

The Liberty Of Using Harmless Pleasure Will Not Be Disputed; But It Is Still To Be Examined What Pleasures Are Harmless.

They Who Look But Little Into Futurity, Have, Perhaps, The Quickest Sensation Of The Present.

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.

Players, Sir! I Look On Them As No Better Than Creatures Set Upon Tables And Joint Stools To Make Faces And Produce Laughter, Like Dancing Dogs.

The Majority Have No Other Reason For Their Opinions Than That They Are The Fashion.

The Drama's Laws The Drama's Patrons Give. For We That Live To Please Must Please To Live.

When A Man Is Tired Of London, He Is Tired Of Life; For There Is In London All That Life Can Afford.

It Is Common To Overlook What Is Near By Keeping The Eye Fixed On Something Remote.

He That Would Travel For The Entertainment Of Others, Should Remember That The Great Object Of Remark Is Human Life. Every Nation Has Something Peculiar In Its Manufactures, Its Works Of Genius, Its Medicines, Its Agriculture, Its Customs, And Its Policy. He Only Is A Useful Traveller, Who Brings Home Something By Which His Country May Be Benefited; Who Procures Some Supply Of Want, Or Some Mitigation Of Evil, Which May Enable His Readers To Compare Their Condition With That Of Others, To Improve It Whenever It Is Worse, And Whenever It Is Better To Enjoy It.

The Happiness Of London Is Not To Be Conceived But By Those Who Have Been In It.

There Is Scarcely Any Writer Who Has Not Celebrated The Happiness Of Rural Privacy, And Delighted Himself And His Reader With The Melody Of Birds, The Whisper Of Groves, And The Murmur Of Rivulets.

You Raise Your Voice When You Should Reinforce Your Argument.

Wretched Un-idea'd Girls.

There Is Something In Obstinacy Which Differs From Every Other Passion. Whenever It Fails, It Never Recovers, But Either Breaks Like Iron, Or Crumbles Sulkily Away, Like A Fractured Arch. Most Other Passions Have Their Periods Of Fatigue And Rest, Their Sufferings And Their Cure; But Obstinacy Has No Resource, And The First Wound Is Mortal.

Some People Have A Foolish Way Of Not Minding, Or Pretending Not To Mind, What They Eat. For My Part, I Mind My Belly Very Studiously, And Very Carefully; For I Look Upon It, That He Who Does Not Mind His Belly Will Hardly Mind Anything Else.

And Panting Time Toil'd After Him In Vain.

No Man Will Be A Sailor Who Has Contrivance Enough To Get Himself Into A Jail; For Being In A Ship Is Being In A Jail, With The Chance Of Being Drowned... A Man In A Jail Has More Room, Better Food, And Commonly Better Company.

Dictionaries Are Like Watches, The Worst Is Better Than None And The Best Cannot Be Expected To Go Quite True.

Just Praise Is Only A Debt, But Flattery Is A Present. The Acknowledgment Of Those Virtues On Which Conscience Congratulates Us Is A Tribute That We Can At Any Tine Exact With Confidence; But The Celebration Of Those Which We Only Feign, Or Desire Without Any Vigorous Endeavours To Attain Them, Is Received As A Confession Of Sovereignty Over Regions Never Conquered, As A Favourable Decision Of Disputable Claims, And Is More Welcome As More Gratuitous.

The Dangers Gather As The Treasures Rise.

I Have Thought Of A Pulley To Raise Me Gradually; But That Would Give Me Pain, As It Would Counteract My Natural Inclination. I Would Have Something That Can Dissipate The Inertia And Give Elasticity To The Muscles. We Can Heat The Body, We Can Cool It; We Can Give It Tension Or Relaxation; And Surely It Is Possible To Bring It Into A State In Which Rising From Bed Will Not Be A Pain.

Language Is The Dress Of Thought.

It Is Not Often That Any Man Can Have So Much Knowledge Of Another, As Is Necessary To Make Instruction Useful.

Friendship Is Not Always The Sequel Of Obligation.

Men Who Have Flattered Themselves Into This Opinion Of Their Own Abilities, Look Down On All Who Waste Their Lives Over Books, As A Race Of Inferior Beings Condemned By Nature To Perpetual Pupilage, And Fruitlessly Endeavouring To Remedy Their Barrenness By Incessant Cultivation, Or Succour Their Feebleness By Subsidiary Strength. They Presume That None Would Be More Industrious Than They, If They Were Not More Sensible Of Deficiences; And Readily Conclude, That He Who Places No Confidence In His Own Powers Owes His Modesty Only To His Weakness.

I Do Not Know, Sir, That The Fellow Is An Infidel; But If He Be An Infidel, He Is An Infidel As A Dog Is An Infidel; That Is To Say, He Has Never Thought Upon The Subject.

The Botanist Looks Upon The Astronomer As A Being Unworthy Of His Regard; And He That Is Glowing Great And Happy By Electrifying A Bottle Wonders How The World Can Be Engaged By Trifling Prattle About War And Peace.

The Hapless Wit Has His Labors Always To Begin, The Call For Novelty Is Never Satisfied, And One Jest Only Raises Expectation Of Another.

There Is ... Scarcely Any Species Of Writing Of Which We Can Tell What Is Its Essence, And What Are Its Constituents; Every New Genius Produces Some Innovation, Which, When Invented And Approved, Subverts The Rules Which The Practice Of Foregoing Authors Had Established.

A Merchant May, Perhaps, Be A Man Of An Enlarged Mind, But There Is Nothing In Trade Connected With An Enlarged Mind.

Deviation From Nature Is Deviation From Happiness.

He Endearing Elegance Of Female Friendship.

It Was The Maxim, I Think, Of Alphonsus Of Aragon, That Dead Counsellors Are Safest. The Grave Puts An End To Flattery And Artifice, And The Information We Receive From Books Is Pure From Interest, Fear, And Ambition. Dead Counsellors Are Likewise Most Instructive, Because They Are Heard With Patience And With Reverence.

You May Abuse A Tragedy, Though You Cannot Write One. You May Scold A Carpenter Who Has Made You A Bad Table, Though You Cannot Make A Table. It Is Not Your Trade To Make Tables.

Life Is A Pill Which None Of Us Can Bear To Swallow Without Gilding.

Our Senses, Our Appetite, And Our Passions Are Our Lawful And Faithful Guides In Things That Relate Solely To This Life.

This World, Where Much Is To Be Done And Little To Be Known.

When Speculation Has Done Its Worst, Two And Two Still Make Four.

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

Every Man Is Of Importance To Himself.

Labor's Face Is Wrinkled With The Wind, And Swarthy With The Sun.

What Signifies Protesting So Against Flattery When A Person Speaks Well Of One, It Must Either Be True Or False, You Know If True, Let Us Rejoice In His Good Opinion If He Lies, It Is A Proof At Least That He Loves More To Please Me, Than To Sit S

To Exact Of Every Man Who Writes That He Should Say Something New, Would Be To Reduce Authors To A Small Number; To Oblige The Most Fertile Genius To Say Only What Is New, Would Be To Contract His Volumes To A Few Pages. Yet, Surely, There Ought To Be Some Bounds To Repetition; Libraries Ought No More To Be Heaped For Ever With The Same Thoughts Differently Expressed, Than With The Same Books Differently Decorated.

The Power, Indeed, Of Every Individual Is Small, And The Consequence Of His Endeavours Imperceptible, In A General Prospect Of The World. Providence Has Given No Man Ability To Do Much, That Something Might Be Left For Every Man To Do. The Business Of Life Is Carried On By A General Co-operation; In Which The Part Of Any Single Man Can Be No More Distinguished, Than The Effect Of A Particular Drop When The Meadows Are Floated By A Summer Shower: Yet Every Drop Increases The Inundation, And Every Hand Adds To The Happiness Or Misery Of Mankind.

To Me - The Choice Of Life Is Become Less Important; I Hope Hereafter To Think Only On The Choice Of Eternity.

The Use Of Traveling Is To Regulate Imagination By Reality.

Quotation Is A Good Thing, There Is A Community Of Thought In It.

When Making Your Choice In Life, Do Not Neglect To Live.

It Ought To Be The First Endeavour Of A Writer To Distinguish Nature From Custom; Or That Which Is Established Because It Is Right, From That Which Is Right Only Because It Is Established; That He May Neither Violate Essential Principles By A Desire Of Novelty, Nor Debar Himself From The Attainment Of Beauties Within His View, By A Needless Fear Of Breaking Rules Which No Literary Dictator Had Authority To Enact.

The Art Of The Writer, Like That Of The Player, Is Attained By Slow Degrees. The Power Of Distinguishing And Discriminating Comick Characters, Or Of Filling Tragedy With Poetical Images, Must Be The Gift Of Nature, Which No Instruction Nor Labour Can Supply; But The Art Of Dramatick Disposition, The Contexture Of The Scenes, The Involution Of The Plot, The Expedients Of Suspension, And The Strategems Of Surprise, Are To Be Learned By Practice.

Exactness Is First Obtained, And Afterwards Elegance. But Diction, Merely Vocal, Is Always In Its Childhood. As No Man Leaves His Eloquence Behind Him, The New Generations Have All To Learn. There May Possibly Be Books Without A Polished Language, But There Can Be No Polished Language Without Books.

So Scanty Is Our Present Allowance Of Happiness That In Many Situations Life Could Scarcely Be Supported If Hope Were Not Allowed To Relieve The Present Hour By Pleasures Borrowed From The Future.

No Man Likes To Live Under The Eye Of Perpetual Disapprobation.

Courtesy And Good-humour Are Often Found With Little Real Worth.

The Highest Panegyric, Therefore, That Private Virtue Can Receive, Is The Praise Of Servants.

From All Our Observations We May Collect With Certainty, That Misery Is The Lot Of Man, But Cannot Discover In What Particular Condition It Will Find Most Alleviations.

Language Is The Dress Of Thought; Every Time You Talk Your Mind Is On Parade.

No, Sir, You Will Have Much More Influence By Giving Or Lending Money Where It Is Wanted, Than By Hospitality.

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.

To A Poet Nothing Can Be Useless.

If One Was To Think Constantly Of Death, The Business Of Life Would Stand Still

He That Wishes To See His Country Robbed Of Its Rights Cannot Be A Patriot.

Those Writers Who Lie On The Watch For Novelty Can Have Little Hope Of Greatness; For Great Things Cannot Have Escaped Former Observation.

As Every One Is Pleased With Imagining That He Knows Something Not Yet Commonly Divulged, Secret History Easily Gains Credit; But It Is For The Most Part Believed Only While It Circulates In Whispers, And When Once It Is Openly Told, Is Openly Refuted.

All The Arguments Which Are Brought To Represent Poverty As No Evil Show It Evidently To Be A Great Evil.

He That Fails In His Endeavors After Wealth Or Power Will Not Long Retain Either Honesty Or Courage.

No Man Was Ever Great By Imitation.

Every Man, However Hopeless His Pretensions May Appear, Has Some Project By Which He Hopes To Rise To Reputation; Some Art By Which He Imagines That The Attention Of The World Will Be Attracted; Some Quality, Good Or Bad, Which Discriminates Him From The Common Herd Of Mortals, And By Which Others May Be Persuaded To Love, Or Compelled To Fear Him.

Ignorance Is Mere Privation By Which Nothing Can Be Produced: It Is A Vacuity In Which The Soul Sits Motionless And Torpid For Want Of Attraction: And, Without Knowing Why, We Always Rejoice When We Learn, And Grieve When We Forget.

Sleep Undisturbed Within This Peaceful Shrine, Till Angels Wake Thee With A Note Like Thine.

Economy Is The Parent Of Integrity, Of Liberty, And Of Ease, And The Beauteous Sister Of Temperance, Of Cheerfulness And Health.

We Have Less Reason To Be Surprised Or Offended When We Find Others Differ From Us In Opinion, Because We Very Often Differ From Ourselves.

Whoever Thinks Of Going To Bed Before Twelve O'clock Is A Scoundrel.

Care That Is Once Enter'd Into The Breast Will Have The Whole Possession Ere It Rest.

That Observation Which Is Called Knowledge Of The World Will Be Found Much More Frequently To Make Men Cunning Than Good.

There Is Nothing, Sir, Too Little For So Little A Creature As Man. It Is By Studying Little Things That We Attain The Great Art Of Having As Little Misery And As Much Happiness As Possible.

Reason Elevates Our Thoughts As High As The Stars, And Leads Us Through The Vast Space Of This Mighty Fabric; Yet It Comes Far Short Of The Real Extent Of Our Corporeal Being.

There Must Always Be Some Advantage On One Side Or The Other, And It Is Better That Advantage Should Be Had By Talents Than By Chance.

A Translator Is To Be Like His Author; It Is Not His Business To Excel Him.

The Excellence Of Aphorisms Consists Not So Much In The Expression Of Some Rare Or Abstruse Sentiment, As In The Comprehension Of Some Useful Truth In A Few Words.

We Are Long Before We Are Convinced That Happiness Is Never To Be Found, And Each Believes It Possessed By Others, To Keep Alive The Hope Of Obtaining It For Himself.

When Two Eglishmen Meet, Their First Talk Is Of The Weather.

It Is As Bad As Bad Can Be: It Is Ill-fed, Ill-killed, Ill-kept, And Ill-drest.

For Gold The Hireling Judge Distorts The Laws.

Among The Innumerable Mortifications Which Waylay Human Arrogance On Every Side May Well Be Reckoned Our Ignorance Of The Most Common Objects And Effects, A Defect Of Which We Become More Sensible By Every Attempt To Supply It. Vulgar And Inactive Minds Confound Familiarity With Knowledge And Conceive Themselves Informed Of The Whole Nature Of Things When They Are Shown Their Form Or Told Their Use; But The Speculatist, Who Is Not Content With Superficial Views, Harasses Himself With Fruitless Curiosity, And Still, As He Inquires More, Perceives Only That He Knows Less.

That Eminence Of Learning Is Not To Be Gained Without Labour, At Least Equal To That Which Any Other Kind Of Greatness Can Require, Will Be Allowed By Those Who Wish To Elevate The Character Of A Scholar; Since They Cannot But Know That Every Human Acquisition Is Valuable In Proportion To The Difficulty Of Its Attainment.

To Strive With Difficulties, And To Conquer Them, Is The Highest Human Felicity; The Next Is, To Strive, And Deserve To Conquer: But He Whose Life Has Passed Without A Contest, And Who Can Boast Neither Success Nor Merit, Can Survey Himself Only As A Useless Filler Of Existence; Ad If He Is Content With His Own Character, Must Owe His Satisfaction To Insensibility.

Religion Informs Us That Misery And Sin Were Produced Together. The Depravation Of Human Will Was Followed By A Disorder Of The Harmony Of Nature; And By That Providence Which Often Places Antidotes In The Neighborhood Of Poisons, Vice Was Checked By Misery, Lest It Should Swell To Universal And Unlimited Dominion.

Once A Coxcomb, Always A Coxcomb.

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

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.

He That Outlives A Wife Whom He Has Long Loved, Sees Himself Disjoined From The Only Mind That Has The Same Hopes, And Fears, And Interest; From The Only Companion With Whom He Has Shared Much Good And Evil; And With Whom He Could Set His Mind At Liberty, To Retrace The Past Or Anticipate The Future. The Continuity Of Being Is Lacerated; The Settled Course Of Sentiment And Action Is Stopped; And Life Stands Suspended And Motionless.

There Lurks, Perhaps, In Every Human Heart A Desire Of Distinction, Which Inclines Every Man First To Hope, And Then To Believe, That Nature Has Given Him Something Peculiar To Himself.

There Will Always Be A Part, And Always A Very Large Part Of Every Community, That Have No Care But For Themselves, And Whose Care For Themselves Reaches Little Further Than Impatience Of Immediate Pain, And Eagerness For The Nearest Good.

Oats. A Grain, Which In England Is Generally Given To Horses, But In Scotland Supports The People.

Being In A Ship Is Being In A Jail, With The Chance Of Being Drowned.

I Have Protracted My Work Till Most Of Those Whom I Wished To Please Have Sunk Into The Grave, And Success And Miscarriage Are Empty Sounds: I Therefore Dismiss It With Frigid Tranquillity, Having Little To Fear Or Hope From Censure Or From Praise.

A Coxcomb Is Ugly All Over With The Effectation Of A Fine Gentleman.

Happiness," Said He, "must Be Something Solid And Permanent, Without Fear And Without Uncertainty.

Differences, We Know, Are Never So Effectually Laid Asleep As By Some Common Calamity; An Enemy Unites All To Whom He Threatens Danger.

It Is A Common Error, And The Greater And More Mischievous For Being So Common, To Believe That Repentance Best Becomes And Most Concerns Dying Men. Indeed, What Is Necessary Every Hour Of Our Life Is Necessary In The Hour Of Death Too, And As Long As One Lives He Will Have Need Of Repentance, And Therefore It Is Necessary In The Hour Of Death Too; But He Who Hath Constantly Exercised Himself In It In His Health And Vigor, Will Do It With Less Pain In His Sickness And Weakness; And He Who Hath Practiced It All His Life, Will Do It With More Ease And Less Perplexity In The Hour Of His Death.

Hunting Was The Labour Of The Savages Of North America, But The Amusement Of The Gentlemen Of England.

Those Authors Who Would Find Many Readers, Must Endeavour To Please While They Instruct.

The Fountain Of Contentment Must Spring Up In The Mind.

Between Falsehood And Useless Truth There Is Little Difference. As Gold Which He Cannot Spend Will Make No Man Rich, So Knowledge Which Cannot Apply Will Make No Man Wise.

Leave To Heaven The Measure And The Choice.

But It Is Evident, That These Bursts Of Universal Distress Are More Dreaded Than Felt; Thousands And Ten Thousands Flourish In Youth, And Wither In Age, Without The Knowledge Of Any Other Than Domestic Evils, And Share The Same Pleasures And Vexations, Whether Their Kings Are Mild Or Cruel, Whether The Armies Of Their Country Pursue Their Enemies Or Retreat Before Them.

A Man Is In General Better Pleased When He Has A Good Dinner Upon His Table, Than When His Wife Talks Greek.

Courage Is The Greatest Of All Virtues, Because If You Haven't Courage, You May Not Have An Opportunity To Use Any Of The Others.

The Appearance And Retirement Of Actors Are The Great Events Of The Theatrical World; And Their First Performances Fill The Pit With Conjecture And Prognostication, As The First Actions Of A New Monarch Agitate Nations With Hope And Fear.

A Man Will Turn Over Half A Library To Make One Book.

He Who Praises Everybody, Praises Nobody.

If A Madman Were To Come Into This Room With A Stick In His Hand, No Doubt We Should Pity The State Of His Mind; But Our Primary Consideration Would Be To Take Care Of Ourselves. We Should Knock Him Down First, And Pity Him Afterwards.

The Use Of Travelling Is To Regulate Imagination By Reality, And Instead Of Thinking How Things May Be, To See Them As They Are.

It Is Man's Own Fault, It Is From Want Of Use, If His Mind Grows Torpid In Old Age.

I Am Not So Lost In Lexicography As To Forget That Words Are The Daughters Of Earth, And That Things Are The Sons Of Heaven.

Some Claim A Place In The List Of Patriots, By An Acrimonious And Unremitting Opposition To The Court. This Mark Is By No Means Infallible. Patriotism Is Not Necessarily Included In Rebellion. A Man May Hate His King, Yet Not Love His Country.

Is Not A Patron, My Lord, One Who Looks With Unconcern On A Man Struggling For Life In The Water, And When He Has Reached Ground Encumbers Him With Help? The Notice Which You Have Been Pleased To Take Care Of My Labors, Had It Been Early, Had Been Kind; But It Has Been Delayed Till I Am Indifferent, And Cannot Enjoy It; Till I Am Solitary, And Cannot Impart It; Till I Am Known, And Do Not Want It.

When A Friend Is Carried To His Grave, We At Once Find Excuses For Every Weakness, And Palliation Of Every Fault. We Recollect A Thousand Endearments, Which Before Glided Off Our Minds Without Impression, A Thousand Favors Unrepaid, A Thousand Duties Unperformed; And Wish, Vainly Wish, For His Return, Not So Much That We May Receive As That We May Bestow Happiness, And Recompense That Kindness Which Before We Never Understood.

In Traveling, A Man Must Carry Knowledge With Him, If He Would Bring Home Knowledge.

Self-love Is Often Rather Arrogant Than Blind; It Does Not Hide Our Faults From Ourselves, But Persuades Us That They Escape The Notice Of Others.

Such Is The Pleasure Of Projecting That Many Content Themselves With A Succession Of Visionary Schemes, And Wear Out Their Allotted Time In The Calm Amusement Of Contriving What They Never Attempt Or Hope To Execute.

Time Is, Of All Modes Of Existence, Most Obsequious To The Imagination.

"i Fly From Pleasure," Said The Prince, "because Pleasure Has Ceased To Please; I Am Lonely Because I Am Miserable, And Am Unwilling To Cloud With My Presence The Happiness Of Others."

When I First Collected These Authorities, I Was Desirous That Every Quotation Should Be Useful To Some Other End Than The Illustration Of A Word; I Therefore Extracted From Philosophers Principles Of Science; From Historians Remarkable Facts; From Chymists Complete Processes; From Divines Striking Exhortations; And From Poets Beautiful Descriptions.

To Set The Mind Above The Appetites Is The End Of Abstinence, Which One Of The Fathers Observes To Be Not A Virtue, But The Groundwork Of Virtue.

Political Liberty Is Only Good Insofar As It Produces Private Liberty.

Pride Is Seldom Delicate, It Will Please Itself With Very Mean Advantages; And Envy Feels Not Its Own Happiness, But When It May Be Compared With The Misery Of Others

There Is No Being So Poor And So Contemptible, Who Does Not Think There Is Somebody Still Poorer, And Still More Contemptible.

Sorrow Is Properly That State Of The Mind In Which Our Desires Are Fixed Upon The Past Without Looking Forward To The Future.

Those Who Have No Power To Judge Of Past Times But By Their Own, Should Always Doubt Their Conclusions

Ignorance, When It Is Voluntary, Is Criminal.

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