The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races, the men who borrow and the men who lend.

Is it a stale remark to say that I have constantly found the interest excited at a playhouse to bear an exact inverse proportion to the price paid for admission?

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

To be thankful for what we grasp exceeding our proportion is to add hypocrisy to injustice.

I allow no hot-beds in the gardens of Parnassus.

What have I gained by health? Intolerable dullness. What by mode meals? A total blank.

I am accounted by some people as a good man. How cheap that character is acquired! Pay your debts, don't borrow money, nor twist your kitten's neck off, nor disturb a congregation, etc., your business is done. I know things of myself, which would make every friend I have fly me as a plague patient.