Our thoughts are the cement of our universe.

Too much ornament is a fault in every kind of production; uncommon expressions, strong flashes of wit, pointed similies, epigrammatic turns; moderation, or else they are a disfigurement, not embellishment of discourse.

The mind, perusing work overstocked with wit, is fatigued and disgusted with the constant endevour to shine and surprise.
So, by that means, have twenty insipid conceits for one thought which is really beautiful. Aww.

Not to wanter in too large a field, I shall confine myself to a few general observations on that head.

Cannot give any rule by which we can know precisely the bounds between the fault and the beauty. Sentiments are better suited to the toiletries of Paris tham the forests of Arcadia. Excess of refinement, not that of simplicity, is both less beautiful and more dangerous.

The mind of man is naturally limited. All its faculties can not possibly operate all at once. For this reason, a greater degree of simplicity is required, allow it to consist of reflection and observation.

Reimbursement of Ideas

conclusion about any other object or event. The other object/event supposed unknown, and that uncertainty comes from unknown contrariety of causes. So that if any of the causes from the known object/event were put in the unknowns, in the end nothing is concealed and no conclusion is uncertain.

Simplicity passes for dullness wien it is not accompanied with great elegance and propriety. There is something surprizing then in a blaze of wit and conceit. It is most striking to the reader, and most excellent way of writing.