The wise man, the true friend, the finished character, we seek everywhere, and only find in fragments.
The wise through excess of wisdom is made a fool.
Nature is what you may do. There is much you may not do.
The dead sleep in their moonless night; my business is with the living.
The Church seems to totter to its fall, almost all life extinct. On this occasion, any complaisance would be criminal which told you, whose hope and commission it is to preach the faith of Christ, that the faith of Christ is preached.
The affections cannot keep their youth any more than men.