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There Is Something In Obstinacy Which Differs From Every Other Passion. Whenever It Fails, It Never Recovers, But Either Breaks Like Iron, Or Crumbles Sulkily Away, Like A Fractured Arch. Most Other Passions Have Their Periods Of Fatigue And Rest, Their Sufferings And Their Cure; But Obstinacy Has No Resource, And The First Wound Is Mortal.

There Is Such A Difference Between The Pursuits Of Men In Great Cities That One Part Of The Inhabitants Lives To Little Other Purpose Than To Wonder At The Rest. Some Have Hopes And Fears, Wishes And Aversions, Which Never Enter Into The Thoughts Of Others, And Inquiry Is Laboriously Exerted To Gain That Which Those Who Possess It Are Ready To Throw Away.

Human Happiness Has Always Its Abatements; The Brightest Sunshine Of Success Is Not Without A Cloud.

All Intellectual Improvement Arises From Leisure.

Every Government Is Perpetually Degenerating Towards Corruption, From Which It Must Be Rescued At Certain Periods By The Resuscitation Of Its First Principles, And The Re-establishment Of Its Original Constitution.