Literature is the garden of wisdom.

A defeat to a brave man is only a victory deferred.

Twilight is like death; the dark portal of night comes upon us, to open again in the glorious morning of immortality.

It is a sure sign of a mind not balanced as it ought to be, when it is insensible to the pleasures of the domestic hearth, and to the little joys and endearments of a family.

The mind paints before the brush.

There is no heart without remorse, no life without some misfortune, no one but what is something stained with sin.

Among all the accomplishments of life none are so important as refinement; it is not, like beauty, a gift of Nature, and can only be acquired by cultivation and practice.