Our passions are like convulsion fits, which, though they make us stronger for a time, leave us the weaker ever after.

Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.

Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.

While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.

False happiness is like false money; it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.

A family is but too often a commonwealth of malignants.

The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, and in the cunning, truth's itself a lie.