Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel.
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense, and love the offender, yet detest the offence?
A mighty maze! But not without a plan.
Strength of mind is exercise, not rest.
Beauty draws us with a single hair.