Panic is a sudden desertion of us, and a going over to the enemy of our imagination.

Example has far more followers than reason.

It is only an error of judgment to make a mistake, but it argues an infirmity of character to adhere to it when discovered.

The trouble with men of sense is that they are so dreadfully in earnest all the while.

How like a railway tunnel is the poor man's life, with the light of childhood at one end, the intermediate gloom, and only the glimmer of a future life at the other extremity!

There is no tyrant like custom, and no freedom where its edicts are not resisted.

False friends are like our shadow, keeping close to us while we walk in the sunshine, but leaving us the instant we cross into the shade.