Sensitiveness is closely allied to egotism; and excessive sensibility is only another name for morbid self-consciousness. The cure for tender sensibilities is to make more of our objects and less of our selves.

Men, like musical instruments, seem made to be played upon.

We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them.

Love delights in paradoxes. Saddest when it has most reason to be gay, sighs are the signs of its deepest joy, and silence is the expression of its yearning tenderness.

What we call conscience in many instances, is only a wholesome fear of the law.

Marriage, by making us more contented, causes us often to be less enterprising.

The past is the sepulchre of our dead emotions.