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Samuel Johnson
The greatest part...
The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in reading, in order to write; a man will turn over half a library to...
The return of...
The return of my birthday, if I remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general care of humanity...
This world where...
This world where much is to be done and little to be known.
Source: Prayers &...
This mournful truth...
This mournful truth is ev'rywhere confessed,
Slow rises worth by poverty depressed.
The usual fortune...
The usual fortune of complaint is to excite contempt more than pity.
Source:
--...
The superiority of...
The superiority of some men is merely local. They are great because their associates are...
The true art...
The true art of memory is the art of attention.
Source: In Webster's Electronic...
To Oliver Goldsmith,...
To Oliver Goldsmith, A Poet, Naturalist, and Historian, who left scarcely any style of writing untouched, and touched...
This was a...
This was a good enough dinner, to be sure; but it was not a dinner to ask a man to.
The world will...
The world will never be long without some good reason to hate the unhappy; their real faults are immediately detected,...
Their learning is...
Their learning is like bread in a besieged town: every man gets a little, but no man gets a full...
The true, strong...
The true, strong and sound mind is the mind that can embrace equally great things and...
To a poet...
To a poet nothing can be useless.
Source: In Webster's Electronic Quotebase, ed....
Tomorrow is an...
Tomorrow is an old deceiver, and his cheat never grows stale.
Source: Letter, 24...
There are charms...
There are charms made only for distant admiration.
Source: In Webster's Electronic...
There can be...
There can be no friendship without confidence, an no confidence without integrity.
The two great...
The two great movers of the human mind are the desire for good, and the fear of evil.
To the strongest...
To the strongest and quickest mind, it is far easier to learn than to invent.
Was there ever...
Was there ever yet anything written by mere man that was wished longer by its readers, excepting Don Quixote, Robinson...
There are minds...
There are minds so impatient of inferiority that their gratitude is a species of revenge, and they return benefits,...