Sickness is the mother of modesty, as it puts us in mind of our mortality, and while we drive on heedlessly in the full career of worldly pomp and jollity, kindly pulls us by the ear, and brings us to a sense of our duty.
Properly conducted scientific studies . . . give us a pretty good idea of when something is likely to be correct. To me, pretty good is a linguistic statistic that falls somewhere in between more likely than not and beyond a reasonable doubt, et avoides the pitfalls arising from the belief in complete objectivity.
Perigrination charms our senses with such unspeakable and sweet variety that some count him that never traveled--a kind of prisoner, and pity his case: that, from his cradle to his old age, he beholds the same still, still,--still, the same, the same.