Grief should be the instructor of the wise; Sorrow is Knowledge.

For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?

To withdraw myself from myself has ever been my sole, my entire, my sincere motive in scribbling at all.

This is the age of oddities let loose.

The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still the master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth, While man, vain insect hopes to be forgiven, And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.

A drop of ink may make a million think.

A feast not profuse but elegant; more of salt [refinement] than of expense.