. . . this life is a perpetual chequer-work of good and evil, pleasure and pain. When in possession of what we desire, we are only so much the nearer losing it; and when at a distance from it, we live in expectation of enjoying it again.

Ah, what a grudge I owe physicians! what mummery is their art!

We are so fond of hearing ourselves spoken of, that, be it good or ill, it is still pleasing.

There is nothing so lovely as to be beautiful. Beauty is a gift of God and we should cherish it as such.

I pity those who have no taste for reading.

winter is past, and we have a prospect of spring that is superior to spring itself.

It is sometimes best to slip over thoughts and not go to the bottom of them.