Why will no man confess his faults? Because he continues to indulge in them; a man cannot tell his dream till he wakes.

Anger, though concealed, is betrayed by the countenance. ?That anger is not warrantable which hath seen two suns.

As the soil, however rich it may be, cannot be productive without cultivation, so the mind without culture can never produce good fruit

I am like a book, with pages that have stuck together for want of use: my mind needs unpacking and the truths stored within must be turned over from time to time, to be ready when occasion demands.

Vice is contagious, and there is no trusting the sound and the sick together.

Nothing is so bitter that a calm mind cannot find comfort in it.

Every man prefers belief to the exercise of judgment.