Life would be as insupportable without the prospect of death, as it would be without sleep.

Modern historians are all would-be philosophers; who, instead of relating facts as they occurred, give us their version, or rather perversions of them, always colored by their political prejudices, or distorted to establish some theory . . .

Here Fashion is a despot, and no one dreams of evading its dictates.

Heaven sends us misfortunes as a moral tonic.

Haste is always ungraceful.

Thoughts come maimed and plucked of plumage from the lips, which, from the pea, in the silence of your own leisure and study, would be born with far more beauty.

We never respect those who amuse us, however we may smile at their comic powers