He that compares what he has done with what he has left undone, will feel the effect which must always follow the comparison of imagination with reality; he will look with contempt on his own unimportance, and wonder to what purpose he came into the world; he will repine that he shall leave behind him no evidence of his having been, that he has added nothing to the system of life, but has glided from youth to age among the crowd, without any effort for distinction.

Language is the dress of thought.

Actions are visible, though motives are secret.

Human life is everywhere a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed.

Riches, perhaps, do not so often produce crimes as incite accusers.

Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt.

Friendship, compounded of esteem and love, derives from one its tenderness and its permanence from the other.