James Boswell Quotes
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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 kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.
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In every place, where there is any thing worthy of observation, there should be a short printed directory for strangers.
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I have discovered that we may be in some degree whatever character we choose. Besides, practice forms a man to anything.
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You are a philosopher, Dr. Johnson. I have tried too in my time to be a philosopher; but, I don't know how, cheerfulness was always breaking in.
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I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.
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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.
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There is nothing worth the wear of winning, but laughter and the love of friends.
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If venereal delight and the power of propagating the species were permitted only to the virtuous, it would make the world very good.
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I regretted I was not the head of a clan; however, though not possessed of such an hereditary advantage, I would always endeavour to make my tenants follow me.
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When I called upon Dr. Johnson next morning, I found him highly satisfied with his colloquial prowess the preceding evening. 'Well, (said he,) we had good talk.' BOSWELL: 'Yes, Sir, you tossed and gored several persons.'
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To abolish a status, which in all ages God has sanctioned, and man has continued, would not only be robbery to an innumerable class of our fellow-subjects; but it would be extreme cruelty to the African Savages, a portion of whom it saves from massacre, or intolerable bondage in their own country, and introduces into a much happier state of life; especially now when their passage to the West-Indies and their treatment there is humanely regulated.
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A page of my journal is like a cake of portable soup. A little may be diffused into a considerable portion.
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A companion loves some agreeable qualities which a man may possess, but a friend loves the man himself.
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But the question is, whether the animals who endure such sufferings of various kinds for the service and entertainment of man, would accept existence upon the terms on which they have it.
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I have found you an argument; I am not obliged to find you an understanding.
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I am now to offer some thoughts upon that sameness or familiarity which we frequently find between passages in different authors without quotation. This may be one of three things either what is called Plagiarism, or Imitation, or Coincidence.
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The best good man, with the worst natur'd muse.
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Addison writes with the ease of a gentleman. His readers fancy that a wise and accomplished companion is talking to them; so thathe insinuates his sentiments and taste into their minds by an imperceptible influence. Johnson writes like a teacher. He dictates to his readers as if from an academical chair. They attend with awe and admiration; and his precepts are impressed upon them by his commanding eloquence. Addison's style, like a light wine, pleases everybody from the first. Johnson's, like a liquor of more body, seems too strong at first, but, by degrees, is highly relished.
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I suppose no person ever enjoyed with more relish the infusion of this fragrant leaf than did Johnson.
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A good pun may be admitted among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation.
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Buffon, who, with all his theoretical ingenuity and extraordinary eloquence, I suspect had little actual information in the science on which he wrote so admirably For instance, he tells us that the cow sheds her horns every two years; a most palpable error. ... It is wonderful that Buffon who lived so much in the country at his noble seat should have fallen into such a blunder I suppose he has confounded the cow with the deer.
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I jumped up on the benches, roared out, 'Damn you, you rascals!', hissed and was in the greatest rage. ... I hated the English; I wished from my soul that the Union was broke and that we might give them another battle of Bannockburn.
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My mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the Johnsonian ether.
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He who has provoked the lash of wit, cannot complain that he smarts from it.