Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

There is no passion in nature so demoniacally impatient, as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a Plunge.

There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart - an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime

Believe me, there exists no such dilemma as that in which a gentleman is placed when he is forced to reply to a blackguard.

Scorching my seared heart with a pain, not hell shall make me fear again.

Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.

There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.