Society punishes not the vices of its members, but their detection.

[His mind] was like a volcano, full of fire and wealth, sometimes calm, often dazzling and playful, but ever threatening. It ran swift as the lightning from one subject to another, and occasionally burst forth in passionate throes of intellect, nearly allied to madness.

Satire, like conscience, reminds us of what we often wish to forget.

Women excel more in literary judgment than in literary production,--they are better critics than authors.

To amend mankind, moralists should show them man, not as he is, but as he ought to be.

Happiness is a rare plant that seldom takes root on earth-few ever enjoyed it, except for a brief period; the search after it is rarely rewarded by the discovery, but there is an admirable substitute for it... a contented spirit.

alas! there is no casting anchor in the stream of time!