James Boswell

In an orchard there should be enough to eat, enough to lay up, enough to be stolen, and enough to rot on the ground.

My mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the Johnsonian ether.

That favorite subject, Myself.

He who praises everybody, praises nobody.

For my own part I think no innocent species of wit or pleasantry should be suppressed: and that a good pun may be admitted among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation.

I find I journalize too tediously. Let me try to abbreviate.

We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over. So in a series of kindness there is, at last, one which makes the heart run over.

Hell is paved with good intentions.