Books are embalmed minds.
A profusion of fancies and quotations is out of place in a love-letter. True feeling is always direct, and never deviates into by-ways to cull flowers of rhetoric.
Courage enlarges, cowardice diminishes resources.
All good writing leaves something unexpressed.
Our first and last love is self-love.
Motives are better than actions. Men drift into crime. Of evil they do more than they contemplate, and of good they contemplate more than they do.