The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found, at last, to be of our own producing.

To be poor, and to seem poor, is a certain method never to rise.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,- Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

The premises being thus settled, I proceed to observe that the concatenation of self-existence, proceeding in a reciprocal duplicate ratio, naturally produces a problematical dialogism, which in some measure proves that the essence of spirituality may be referred to the second predicable.

In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stagecoach.

All the bloomy flush of life is fled.

Fear guides more to their duty than gratitude; for one man who is virtuous from the love of virtue, from the obligation he thinks he lies under to the Giver of all, there are ten thousand who are good only from their apprehension of punishment.