He who has provoked the shaft of wit, cannot complain that he smarts from it.

If we will have the kindness of others, we must endure their follies.

Where grief is fresh, any attempt to divert it only irritates.

Ah! Sir, a boy's being flogged is not so severe as a man's having the hiss of the world against him.

To exact of every man who writes that he should say something new, would be to reduce authors to a small number; to oblige the most fertile genius to say only what is new, would be to contract his volumes to a few pages. Yet, surely, there ought to be some bounds to repetition; libraries ought no more to be heaped for ever with the same thoughts differently expressed, than with the same books differently decorated.

So scanty is our present allowance of happiness that in many situations life could scarcely be supported if hope were not allowed to relieve the present hour by pleasures borrowed from the future.

Ancient travelers guessed; modern travelers measure.