Few minds wear out; more rust out.
Pure motives do not insure perfect results.
As threshing separates the wheat from the chaff, so does affliction purify virtue.
It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.
We make way for the man who boldly pushes past us.
At the best, sarcasms, bitter irony, scathing wit, are a sort of swordplay of the mind. You pink your adversary, and he is forthwith dead; and then you deserve to be hung for it.