O Luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree!
We are all sure of two things, at least; we shall suffer and we shall all die.
The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form.
Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals; love, an abject intercourse between tyrants and slaves.
The true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them.
Pity, though it may often relieve, is but, at best, a short-lived passion, and seldom affords distress more than transitory assistance; with some it scarce lasts from the first impulse till the hand can be put into the pocket.