You have sensible women here [in England] but then, they are very devils--censorious, uncharitable, sarcastic--the women in Scotland have twice--thrice their freedom, with all their virtue--and are very conversable and agreeable--their educations are more finished.

People who live together naturally catch the looks and air of one another and without having one feature alike, they contract a something in the whole countenance which strikes one as a resemblance

... there's nothing but quarreling with the women; it's my belief they like it better than victuals and drink.

I have this very moment finished reading a novel called The Vicar of Wakefield [by Oliver Goldsmith].... It appears to me, to be impossible any person could read this book through with a dry eye and yet, I don't much like it.... There is but very little story, the plot is thin, the incidents very rare, the sentiments uncommon, the vicar is contented, humble, pious, virtuous--but upon the whole the book has not at all satisfied my expectations.

Generosity without delicacy, like wit without judgment, generally gives as much pain as pleasure.

... it's vastly more irksome to give up one's own way, than to hear a few impertinent remarks.

the mind naturally accommodates itself, even to the most ridiculous improprieties, if they occur frequently.