How I like to be liked, and what I do to be liked!

Science has succeeded to poetry, no less in the little walks of children than with men. Is there no possibility of averting this sore evil?

The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.

(The pig) hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach of the judicious epicure - and for such a tomb might be content to die.

Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.

To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.

A book reads the better which is our own, and has been so long known to us, that we know the topography of its blots, and dog's ears, and can trace the dirt in it to having read it at tea with buttered muffins.