Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery," said I, "still thou art a bitter draught.

What is the life of man! Is it not to shift from side to side? From sorrow to sorrow? To button up one cause of vexation! And unbutton another!

Look into the world--how often do you behold a sordid wretch, whose straight heart is open to no man's affliction, taking shelterbehind an appearance of piety, and putting on the garb of religion, which none but the merciful and compassionate have a title to wear.

I begin with writing the first sentence—and trusting to Almighty God for the second.

When the heart flies out before the understanding, it saves the judgment a world of pains.

We often think ourselves inconsistent creatures, when we are the furthest from it, and all the variety of shapes and contradictory appearances we put on, are in truth but so many different attempts to gratify the same governing appetite.

Titles of honour are like the impressions on coin; — which add no value to gold and silver, but only render brass current.