The editor sat in his sanctum, his countenance furrowed with
care,
His mind at the bottom of business, read more

The editor sat in his sanctum, his countenance furrowed with
care,
His mind at the bottom of business, his feet at the top of a
chair,
His chair-arm an elbow supporting, his right hand upholding his
head,
His eyes on his dusty table, with different documents spread.

The press, like fire, is an excellent servant, but a terrible master.

The press, like fire, is an excellent servant, but a terrible master.

The great art in writing advertisements is the finding out a
proper method to catch the reader's eye; without read more

The great art in writing advertisements is the finding out a
proper method to catch the reader's eye; without which a good
thing may pass over unobserved, or be lost among commissions of
bankrupt.

When found, make a note of.

When found, make a note of.

Advertisements are of great use to the vulgar. First of all, as
they are instruments of ambition. A man read more

Advertisements are of great use to the vulgar. First of all, as
they are instruments of ambition. A man that is by no means big
enough for the Gazette, may easily creep into the advertisements;
by which means we often see an apothecary in the same paper of
news with a plenipotentiary, or a running footman with an
ambassador.

I believe it has been said that one copy of the "Times" contains
more useful information than the whole read more

I believe it has been said that one copy of the "Times" contains
more useful information than the whole of the historical works of
Thucydides.

None of our political writers . . . take notice of any more than
three estates, namely, Kings, Lords read more

None of our political writers . . . take notice of any more than
three estates, namely, Kings, Lords and Commons . . . passing by
in silence that very large and powerful body which form the
fourth estate in the community . . . the Mob.

Nobody's interested in sweetness and light.

Nobody's interested in sweetness and light.

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in read more

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in a' your coats,
I rede you tent it:
A chield's amang you takin notes,
And, faith, he'll prent it.