It is doing some service to humanity, to amuse innocently. They know but little of society who think we can bear to be always employed, either in duties or meditation, without relaxation.

I am persuaded that there is no affection of the human heart more exquisitely pure, than that which is felt by a grateful son towards a mother.

Anger is the common refuge of insignificance. People who feel their character to be slight, hope to give it weight by inflation: but the blown bladder at its fullest distention is still empty.

A faint endeavor ends in a sure defeat.

Gentleness is the outgrowth of benignity.

Names govern the world.

Commending a right thing is a cheap substitute for doing it, with which we are too apt to satisfy ourselves.