To hint at a fault does more mischief than speaking out; for whatever is left for the imagination to finish will not fail to be overdone.

The wretch who digs the mine for bread, or ploughs, that others may be fed, feels less fatigued than that decreed to him who cannot think or read.

Genius without religion is only a lamp on the outer gate of a palace; it may serve to cast a gleam of light on those that are without, while the inhabitant sits in darkness.

In men this blunder still you find; all think their little set mankind.

Sweet is the breath of praise when given by those whose own high merit claims the praise they give.

My retirement was now become solitude; the former is, I believe, the best state for the mind of man, the latter almost the worst. In complete solitude, the eye wants objects, the heart wants attachments, the understanding wants reciprocation. The character loses its tenderness when it has nothing to strengthen it, its sweetness when it has nothing to soothe it.

There is scarcely any fault in another which offends us more than vanity, though perhaps there is none that really injures us so little.