What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms, their dresses, their banners, and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements.

But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.

I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.

I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but as you will see, not infested with the mania.

Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?

Fame is the thirst of youth.

But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.