Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.

The nature of a narrow and malevolent spirit is so essentially incompatible with happiness as to render it inaccessible to the influences of the benignant God.

Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.

The practice of utter sincerity towards other men would avail to no good end, if they were incapable of practising it towards their own minds. In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.

The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.

I love tranquil solitude.