Life Affords No Higher Pleasure Than That

Tomorrow Is An Old Deceiver, And His Cheat Never Grows Stale.

Our Aspirations Are Our Possibilities.

Criticism Is A Study By Which Men Grow Important And Formidable At Very Small Expense. The Power Of Invention Has Been Conferred By Nature Upon Few, And The Labour Of Learning Those Sciences Which May, By Mere Labour, Be Obtained, Is Too Great To Be Willingly Endured; But Every Man Can Exert Some Judgment As He Has Upon The Works Of Others; And He Whom Nature Has Made Weak, And Idleness Keeps Ignorant, May Yet Support His Vanity By The Name Of Critic.

False Taste Is Always Busy To Mislead Those That Are Entering Upon The Regions Of Learning; And The Traveller, Uncertain Of His Way, And Forsaken By The Sun, Will Be Pleased To See A Fainter Orb Arise On The Horizon, That May Rescue Him From Total Darkness, Though With Weak And Borrowed Lustre.

To Read, Write, And Converse In Due Proportions, Is, Therefore, The Business Of A Man Of Letters.