There Is No Wisdom In Useless And

Every Man, However Hopeless His Pretensions May Appear, Has Some Project By Which He Hopes To Rise To Reputation; Some Art By Which He Imagines That The Attention Of The World Will Be Attracted; Some Quality, Good Or Bad, Which Discriminates Him From The Common Herd Of Mortals, And By Which Others May Be Persuaded To Love, Or Compelled To Fear Him.

Power Is Not Sufficient Evidence Of Truth.

So Different Are The Colors Of Life, As We Look Forward To The Future, Or Backward To The Past; And So Different The Opinions And Sentiments Which This Contrariety Of Appearance Naturally Produces, That The Conversation Of The Old And Young Ends Generally With Contempt Or Pity On Either Side.

The Two Offices Of Memory Are Collection And Distribution.

Luncheon: As Much Food As One's Hand Can Hold.