It is said there is no happiness, and no love to be compared to that which is felt for the first time. Most persons erroneously think so; but love like other arts requires experience, and terror and ignorance, on its first approach, prevent our feeling it as strongly as at a later period.

My life has not been the best possible. The slave of impulse, I have rushed forward to my own destruction.

Nature formed me fierce.

It is the common failing of an ambitious mind to over-rate itself.

He is mad, bad and dangerous to know.

a weak and irresolute disposition is often more destructive than determined vice.

my mind is a world in itself, which I have peopled with my own creatures.