Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!

Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind

Our Grub-street biographers watch for the death of a great man like so many undertakers on purpose to make a penny of him.

One may know a man that never conversed in the world, by his excess of good-breeding.

We make provisions for this life as if it were never to have an end, and for the other life as though it were never to have a beginning.

Plutarch says very finely that a man should not allow himself to hate even his enemies.

It is usual for a Man who loves Country Sports to preserve the Game in his own Grounds, and divert himself upon those that belongto his Neighbour.