If useless thoughts could be expelled from the mind, all the valuable parts of our knowledge would more frequently recur.

Sir, he [Bolingbroke] was a scoundrel and a coward: a scoundrel for charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality; a coward, because he had not resolution to fire it off himself, but left half a crown to a beggarly Scotsman to draw the trigger at his death.

The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love, like being enlivened with champagne.

Extended empires are like expanded gold, exchanging solid strength for feeble splendor.

The most useful truths are always universal, and unconnected with accidents and customs.

Truth has no gradations; nothing which admits of increase can be so much what it is, as truth is truth. There may be a strange thing, and a thing more strange. But if a proposition be true, there can be none more true.

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.