A good deal of our politics is physiological.
The genius of life is friendly to the noble, and, in the dark, brings them friends from far.
What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.
The highest virtue is always against the law.
The louder he talked of his honor, the faster we counted our spoons.
Spurious prudence, making the senses final, is the god of sots and cowards, and is the subject of all comedy. It is nature's joke, and therefore literature's. True prudence limits this sensualism by admitting the knowledge of an internal and real world.