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.

The perfection of outward loveliness is the soul shining through its crystalline covering.

we never know the blessings bestowed on us until we are separated from the possession of them.

If cowardice were not so completely a coward as to be unable to look steadily upon the effects of courage, he would find that there is no refuge so sure as dauntless valor.

none are fit judges of greatness but those who are capable of it.

Virtue, without the graces, is like a rich diamond unpolished--it hardly looks better than a common pebble; but when the hand of the master rubs off the roughness, and forms the sides into a thousand brilliant surfaces, it is then that we acknowledge its worth, admire its beauty, and long to wear it in our bosoms.

How different is the ready hand, tearful eye, and soothing voice, from the ostentatious appearance which is called pity.