I can bear scorpion's stings, tread fields of fire, in frozen gulfs of cold eternal lie, be tossed aloft through tracts of endless void, but cannot live in shame.
The mind doth shape itself to its own wants, and can bear all things.
It is so seldom that a young fellow has any inclination for the company of an old man. . .
Heaven often smites in mercy, even when the blow is severest.
If my heart were not light, I would die.
Pride is a fault that great men blush not to own: it is the ennobled offspring of self-love; though, it must be confessed, grave and pompous vanity, Iike a fat plebeian in a rove of office, does very often assume its name.