All human race would be wits. And millions miss, for one that hits.

If the world had but a dozen Arbuthnots in it, I would burn my Travels.

Old men and comets have been reverenced for the same reason: their long beards, and pretences to foretell events.

Men who possess all the advantages of life are in a state where there are many accidents to disorder and discompose, but few to please them.

I love white Portugal wine better than claret, champagne, or burgundy. I have a sad vulgar appetite.

Men of wit, learning and virtue might strike out every offensive or unbecoming passage from plays.

A favor is half granted, when graciously refused.