It is well-known what a middleman is: he is a man who bamboozles one party and plunders the other.

Youth is a blunder; Manhood a struggle, Old Age a regret.

And it is a singular truth that, though a man may shake off national habits, accent, manner of thinking, style of dress,--though he may become perfectly identified with another nation, and speak its language well, perhaps better than his own,--yet never can he succeed in changing his handwriting to a foreign style.

The stage is a supplement to the pulpit, where virtue, according to Plato's sublime idea, moves our love and affection when made visible to the eye.

There is no diplomacy like silence.

A man's fate is his own temper.

As a rule, he or she who has the most information will have the greatest success in life.