The consciousness of being deemed dead, is next to the presumable unpleasantness of being so in reality. One feels like his own ghost unlawfully tenanting a defunct carcass.

Are not half our lives spent in reproaches for foregone actions, of the true nature and consequences of which we were wholly ignorant at the time?

In armies, navies, cities, or families, in nature herself, nothing more relaxes good order than misery.

I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy.

We cannot live for ourselves alone.

When among wild beasts, if they menace you, be a wild beast.

Poor people make a very poor business of it when they try to seem rich.