Conscience is the mirror of our souls, which represents the errors of our lives in their full shape.

Sedition is bred in the lap of luxury and its chosen emissaries are the beggared spendthrift and the impoverished libertine.

The charities of life are scattered everywhere, enameling the vales of human beings as the flowers paint the meadows. They are not the fruit of study, nor the privilege of refinement, but a natural instinct.

The public is wiser than the wisest critic.

Libraries collect the works of genius of every language and every age.

Beauty is but the sensible image of the infinite. Like truth and justice, it lives within us; like virtue and the moral law, it is a companion of the soul.

If reason is a universal faculty, the decision of the common mind is the nearest criterion of truth.