Oh Dear! How unfortunate I am not to have anyone to weep with!

Not to find pleasure in serious reading gives a pastel coloring to the mind.

I am persuaded that the greater part of our complaints arise from want of exercise.

It is thus that we walk through the world like the blind, not knowing whither we are going, regarding as bad what is good, regarding as good what is bad, and ever in entire ignorance.

When we reckon without Providence, we must frequently reckon twice.

When I step into this library, I cannot understand why I ever step out of it.

It is the fine rain that soaks us through.