Art, however innocent, looks like deceiving.
There is no merit where there is no trial; and till experience stamps the mark of strength, cowards may pass for heroes, and faith for falsehood.
Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, and lose the medium in the wild extreme.
Servile doubt argues an impotence of mind, that says we fear because we dare not meet misfortunes.
Hide not thy tears; weep boldly, and be proud to give the flowing virtue manly way; it is nature's mark to know an honest heart by.