As we ascend in society, like those who climb a mountain, we shall find that the line of perpetual congelation commences with the higher circles; and the nearer we approach to the grand luminary the court, the more frigidity and apathy shall we experience.

Pedantry prides herself on being wrong by rules; while common sense is contented to be right without them.

The excesses of our youth are drafts upon our old age.

Strong as our passions are, they may be starved into submission, and conquered without being killed.

We injure mysteries, which are matters of faith, by any attempt at explanation in order to make them matters of reason. Could they be explained, they would cease to be mysteries; and it has been well said that a thing is not necessarily against reason because it happens to be above it.

Sensibility would be a good portress if she had but one hand; with her right she opens the door to pleasure, but with her left to pain.

A hug is worth a thousand words.