There is yet a silent agony in which the mind appears to disdain all external help, and broods over its distresses with gloomy reserve. This is the most dangerous state of mind; accidents or friendships may lessen the louder kinds of grief, but all remedies for this must be had from within, and there despair too often finds the most deadly enemy.

Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace the day's disasters in his morning face.

Could a man live by it, it were not unpleasant employment to be a poet.

The life of a scholar seldom abounds with adventure.

Don't let us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter.

All that a husband or wife really wants is to be pitied a little, praised a little, and appreciated a little.

The mind is ever ingenious in making its own distress.