Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

Society is like a large piece of frozen water; and skating well is the great art of social life.

Oh, only those whose souls have felt this one idolatry can tell how precious is the slightest thing affection gives and hallows.

Of all false assertions that ever went into the world under the banner of a great name and the mail armor of a well-turned phrase, Locke's comparison of the mind to a blank sheet of paper appears to me among the most untrue.

It is said that ridicule is the test of truth: it is never applied, but when we wish to deceive ourselves.

A sealed book, at whose contents we tremble.

We are rarely wrong when we act from impulse.