His foodWas glory, which was poison to his mindAnd peril to his body.

We figure to ourselves The thing we like; and then we build it up, As chance will have it, on the rock or sand,- For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world, And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.

The world knows nothing of its greatest men.

The philosophy which affects to teach us a contempt of money does not run very deep; for, indeed, it ought to be still more clear to the philosopher than it is to ordinary men, that there are few things in the world of greater importance.

His foodWas glory, which was poison to his mindAnd peril to his body.

Of all the uses of adversity which are sweet, none are sweeter than those which grow out of disappointed love.

Where there are large powers with little ambition... nature may be said to have fallen short of her purposes.