That grief is the most durable which flows inward, and buries its streams with its fountain, in the depths of the heart.

When Alexander had subdued the world, and wept that none were left to dispute his arms, his tears were an involuntary tribute to a monarchy that he knew not, man's empire over himself.

In his fairy dreams of war [Thaddeus] always made conquest the sure end of his battles.

The doubts of love are never to be wholly overcome; they grow with its various anxieties, timidities, and tenderness, and are the very fruits of the reverence in which the admired object is beheld.

The pure in heart are slow to credit calumnies, because they hardly comprehend what motives can be inducements to the alleged crimes.

That grief is the most durable which flows inward, and buries its streams with its fountain, in the depths of the heart.

True virtue, when she errs, needs not the eyes of men to excite her blushes; she is confounded at her own presence, and covered with confusion of face.