In Sovereignty There Are No

It Is Generally Allowed, That No Man Ever Found The Happiness Of Possession Proportionate To That Expectation Which Incited His Desire, And Invigorated His Pursuit; Nor Has Any Man Found The Evils Of Life So Formidable In Reality, As They Were Described To Him By His Own Imagination; Every Species Of Distress Brings With It Some Peculiar Supports, Some Unforeseen Means Of Resisting, Or Powers Of Enduring.

It Is Not Difficult To Conceive, However, That For Many Reasons A Man Writes Much Better Than He Lives. For Without Entering Into Refined Speculations, It May Be Shown Much Easier To Design Than To Perform. A Man Proposes His Schemes Of Life In A State Of Abstraction And Disengagement, Exempt From The Enticements Of Hope, The Solicitations Of Affection, The Importunities Of Appetite, Or The Depressions Of Fear.

The Number Of Such As Live Without The Ardour Of Inquiry Is Very Small, Though Many Content Themselves With Cheap Amusements, And Waste Their Lives In Researches Of No Importance.

Solitude Is Dangerous To Reason, Without Being Favourable To Virtue. Remember That The Solitary Mortal Is Certainly Luxurious, Probably Superstitious, And Possibly Mad.

No Man Is A Hypocrite In His Pleasures.