The truest comparison we can make of love is to liken it to a fever; we have no more power over the one than the other, either as to its violence or duration.

Funeral pomp is more for the vanity of the living than for the honor of the dead.

In the human heart one generation of passions follows another; from the ashes of one springs the spark of the next.

It is as common for tastes to change as it is uncommon for traits of character.

For most men the love of justice is only the fear of suffering injustice.

Hope is the last thing that dies in man; and though it be exceedingly deceitful, yet it is of this good use to us, that while we are traveling through life it conducts us in an easier and more pleasant way to our journey's end.

The force we use on ourselves, to prevent ourselves from loving, is often more cruel than the severest treatment at the hands of one loved.