The post of honour is a private station.

For my own part, I am apt to join in the opinion with those who believe that all the regions of Nature swarm with spirits, and that we have multitudes of spectators on all our actions when we think ourselves most alone.

It must be so, Plato, thou reason'st well!

In the loss of an object we do not proportion our grief to the real value it bears, but to the value our fancies set upon it.

Honor's a fine imaginary notion, that draws in raw and unexperienced men to real mischiefs.

Love is a second life; it grows into the soul, warms every vein, and beats in every pulse.

The great number of the Jews furnishes us with a sufficient cloud of witnesses that attest the truth of the Bible.