Every old man complains of the growing depravity of the world, of the petulance and insolence of the rising generation.

The main of life is composed of small incidents and petty occurrences; of wishes for objects not remote, and grief for disappointments of no fatal consequence.

The necessities of our condition require a thousand offices of tenderness, which mere regard for the species will never dictate.

Gratitude is a fruit of great cultivation; you do not find it among gross people.

Most minds are the slaves of external circumstances, and conform to any hand that undertakes to mould them.

He that pursues fame with just claims, trusts his happiness to the winds; but he that endeavors after it by false merit, has to fear, not only the violence of the storm, but the leaks of his vessel.

Mutual cowardice keeps us in peace.