Let a slight snow come and cover the earth, and the tracks of men will show how little the woods and fields are frequented.

The man who thrusts his manners upon me does as if he were to insist on introducing me to his cabinet of curiosities, when I wished to see himself.

What is the singing of birds, or any natural sound, compared with the voice of one we love.

In civilization, as in a southern latitude, man degenerates at length, and yields to the incursion of more northern tribes.

Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice.

Justice is sweet and musical; but injustice is harsh and discordant.

Love is no individual's experience; and though we are imperfect mediums, it does not partake of our imperfection; though we are finite, it is infinite and eternal.