A little thing will turn and divert us
     Abominate that incidental repentance which old age brings
     Age imprints more wrinkles in the mind than it does on the face
     Always be parading their pedantic science
     Am as jealous of my repose as of my authority
     Anger and hatred are beyond the duty of justice
     Beast of company, as the ancient said, but not of the herd
     Books go side by side with me in my whole course
     Books have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose
     But ill proves the honour and beauty of an action by its utility
     Childish ignorance of many very ordinary things
     Common consolation, discourages and softens me
     Consoles himself upon the utility and eternity of his writings
     Deceit maintains and supplies most men’s employment
     Diverting the opinions and conjectures of the people
     Dying appears to him a natural and indifferent accident
     Every place of retirement requires a walk
     Fault will be theirs for having consulted me
     Few men have been admired by their own domestics
     Follies do not make me laugh, it is our wisdom which does
     Folly to put out their own light and shine by a borrowed lustre
     For fear of the laws and report of men
     Gently to bear the inconstancy of a lover
     Give but the rind of my attention
     Grief provokes itself
     He may employ his passion, who can make no use of his reason
     He may well go a foot, they say, who leads his horse in his hand
     I do not consider what it is now, but what it was then
     I find no quality so easy to counterfeit as devotion
     I lay no great stress upon my opinions; or of others
     I look upon death carelessly when I look upon it universally
     I receive but little advice, I also give but little
     I speak truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare
     I understand my men even by their silence and smiles
     Idleness is to me a very painful labour
     Imagne the mighty will not abase themselves so much as to live
     In ordinary friendships I am somewhat cold and shy
     Leaving nothing unsaid, how home and bitter soever
     Library:  Tis there that I am in my kingdom
     Malice sucks up the greatest part of its own venom
     Malicious kind of justice
     Miserable kind of remedy, to owe one’s health to one’s disease! 
     Miserable, who has not at home where to be by himself
     More supportable to be always alone than never to be so. 
     My fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it
     My thoughts sleep if I sit still
     Nearest to the opinions of those with whom they have to do
     No evil is honourable; but death is honourable
     No man is free from speaking foolish things
     Noise of arms deafened the voice of laws
     None of the sex, let