a perfect piece of architecture kindles that aimless reverie, which bears the soul we know not whither.

Happy the land where the writers are sad, the merchants satisfied, the rich melancholic, and the populace content.

The only equitable manner in my opinion, of judging the character of a man is to examine if there are personal calculations in his conduct; if there are not, we may blame his manner of judging, but we are not the less bound to esteem him.

Morality must guide calculation, and calculation must guide politics.

It seems to me that we become more dear one to the other, in together admiring works of art, which speak to the soul by their true grandeur.

Nothing recalls the past like music.

How much past there is in a life, however brief it be.