A poor man defended himself when charged with stealing food to appease the cravings of hunger, saying, the cries of the stomach silenced those of the conscience.

We are more prone to murmur at the punishment of our faults than to lament them.

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

People seem to lose all respect for the past; events succeed each other with such velocity that the most remarkable one of a few years gone by, is no more remembered than if centuries had closed over it.

Sure there's different roads from this to Dungarvan* - some thinks one road pleasanter, and some think another; wouldn't it be mighty foolish to quarrel for this? - and sure isn't it twice worse to thry to interfere with people for choosing the road they like best to heaven?

The most certain mode of making people content with us is to make them content with themselves.

Mediocrity is beneath a brave soul.