The care of a large estate is an unpleasant thing.
No one ever suddenly became depraved.
Autumn is the harvest of greedy death.
This is his first punishment, that by the verdict of his own heart no guilty man is acquitted.
An incurable itch for scribbling takes possession of many, and grows inveterate in their insane breasts.
Revenge is always the weak pleasure of a little and narrow mind.