Ancient Travelers Guessed; Modern Travelers

It Is Very Strange, And Very Melancholy, That The Paucity Of Human Pleasures Should Persuade Us Ever To Call Hunting One Of Them.

It Is Common To Overlook What Is Near By Keeping The Eye Fixed On Something Remote.

Among The Many Inconsistencies Which Folly Produces Or Infirmity Suffers In The Human Mind, There Has Often Been Observed A Manifest And Striking Contrariety Between The Life Of An Author And His Writings... Those Whom The Appearance Of Virtue Or The Evidence Of Genius Has Tempted To A Nearer Knowledge Of The Writer, In Whose Performances They May Be Found, Have Indeed Had Frequent Reason To Repent Their Curiosity.

I Deny The Lawfulness Of Telling A Lie To A Sick Man For Fear Of Alarming Him; You Have No Business With Consequences, You Are To Tell The Truth.

Just Praise Is Only A Debt, But Flattery Is A Present. The Acknowledgment Of Those Virtues On Which Conscience Congratulates Us Is A Tribute That We Can At Any Tine Exact With Confidence; But The Celebration Of Those Which We Only Feign, Or Desire Without Any Vigorous Endeavours To Attain Them, Is Received As A Confession Of Sovereignty Over Regions Never Conquered, As A Favourable Decision Of Disputable Claims, And Is More Welcome As More Gratuitous.