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

Heaven often smites in mercy, even when the blow is severest.

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.

I have seen the day, when, if a man made himself ridiculous, the world would laugh at him. But now, everything that is mean, disgusting, and absurd, pleases them but so much the better!

He that will not give some portion of his ease, his blood, his wealth, for other's good, is a poor, frozen churl.

Pampered vanity is a better thing perhaps than starved pride.

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.