my mind is a world in itself, which I have peopled with my own creatures.
Nature formed me fierce.
My life has not been the best possible. The slave of impulse, I have rushed forward to my own destruction.
a weak and irresolute disposition is often more destructive than determined vice.
the sins of children rise up in judgment against their parents.
real misery delights not in reproaches and complaints. It is like charity and love - silent, long suffering and mild.