Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man.

I believe that everyone, some time or other, dreams that he is reading papers, books, or letters; in which case the invention prompts so readily that the mind is imposed upon, and mistakes its own suggestions for the composition of another.

What an absurd thing it is to pass over all the valuable parts of a man, and fix our attention on his infirmities.

Unbounded courage and compassion join'd, Tempering each other in the victor's mind, Alternately proclaim him good and great, And make the hero and the man complete.

Devotion, when it does not lie under the check of reason, is apt to degenerate into enthusiasm.

If men would consider not so much wherein they differ, as wherein they agree, there would be far less of uncharitableness and angry feeling in the world.

I consider time as an in immense ocean, in which many noble authors are entirely swallowed up.