A writer only begins a book. A reader finishes it.

His scorn of the great is repeated too often to be real; no man thinks much of that which he despises.

A man, doubtful of his dinner, or trembling at a creditor, is not much disposed to abstracted meditation, or remote enquiries.

I had done all that I could, and no Man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.

It is more reasonable to wish for reputation while it may be enjoyed, as Anacreon calls upon his companions to give him for present use the wine and garlands which they propose to bestow upon his tomb.

An Italian philosopher said that "time was his estate"; an estate indeed which will produce nothing without cultivation, but will always abundantly repay the labors of industry, and generally satisfy the most extensive desires, if no part of it be suffered to lie in waste by negligence, to be overrun with noxious plants, or laid out for show rather than for use.

Such seems to be the disposition of man, that whatever makes a distinction produces rivalry.