If it were a rainy day, a drunken vigil, a fit of the spleen, a course of physic, sleepy Sunday, an ill run at dice, a long tailor's bill, a beggar's purse, a factious head, a hot sun, costive diet, want of books, and a just contempt for learning - but for these. . .the number of authors and of writing would dwindle away to a degree most woeful to behold.

When dunces are satiric, I take it for a panegyric.

My father had a small Estate in Nottinghamshire; I was the Third of five Sons.

A maxim in law has more weight in the world than an article of faith.

A ridiculous passion which hath no being but in play-books and romances.

Would a writer know how to behave himself with relation td posterity? Let him consider in old books what he finds that he is glad to know, and what omissions he most laments.

Once kick the world, and the world and you will live together at a reasonably good understanding.