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.

Superstition is but the fear of belief.

Mountains appear more lofty the nearer they are approached, but great men resemble them not in this particular.

The vices of the rich and great are mistaken for error; and those of the poor and lowly, for crimes.

Religion converts despair, which destroys, into resignation, which submits.

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

The infirmities of genius are often mistaken for its privileges.