An empty book is like an infant's soul, in which anything may be written. It is capable of all things, but containeth nothing. I have a mind to fill this with profitable wonders.

Be sensible of your wants, that you maybe sensible of your treasures.

A little grit in the eye destroyeth the sight of the very heavens, and a little malice or envy a world of joys. One wry principle in the mind is of infinite consequence.

You are as prone to love, as the sun is to shine.

Is it not strange, that an infant should be heir of the whole world, and see those mysteries which the books of the learned never unfold?

More company increases happiness, but does not lighten or diminish misery.

You are as prone to love as the sun is to shine; it being the most delightful and natural employment of the soul of humans.