Never literary attempt was more unfortunate than my Treatise of Human Nature. It fell dead-born from the press.

It affords a violent prejudice against almost every science, that no prudent man, however sure of his principles, dares prophesy concerning any event, or foretell the remote consequences of things.

The heights of popularity and patriotism are still the beaten road to power and tyranny.

The law always limits every power it gives.

Human happiness seems to consist in three ingredients: action, pleasure and indolence.

To hate, to love, to think, to feel, to see; all this is nothing but to perceive.

There is a set of harmless liars, frequently to be met with in company, who deal much in the marvellous. Their usual intention is to please and entertain; but as men are most delighted with what they conceive to be the truth, these people mistake the means of pleasing, and incur universal blame.