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

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.

Pampered vanity is a better thing perhaps than starved pride.

My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.

Half-uttered praise is to the curious mind, as to the eye half-veiled beauty is, more precious than the whole.

Still on it creeps, Each little moment at another's heels, Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up Of such small parts as these, and men look back Worn and bewilder'd, wondering how it is.