I believe this earth on which we stand is but the vestibule to glorious mansions through which a moving crowd forever press.
Joanna BaillieHe that will not give some portion of his ease, his blood, his wealth, for other's good, is a poor, frozen churl.
Joanna BailliePride 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.
Joanna Baillie