The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.

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.

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.

A woman is seldom roused to great and courageous exertion but when something most dear to her is in immediate danger.

The mind doth shape itself to its own wants, and can bear all things.

It ever is the marked propensity of restless and aspiring minds to look into the stretch of dark futurity.

The plainest case in many words entangling.