Wit is the lightning of the mind, reason the sunshine, and reflection the moonlight.

Grief is, of all the passions, the one that is the most ingenious and indefatigable in finding food for its own subsistence.

A beautiful woman without fixed principles may be likened to those fair but rootless flowers which float in streams, driven by every breeze.

There are no persons capable of stooping so low as those who desire to rise in the world.

Spring is the season of hope, and autumn is that of memory.

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

Tears fell from my eyes - yes, weak and foolish as it now appears to me, I wept for my departed youth; and for that beauty of which the faithful mirror too plainly assured me, no remnant existed.