We are poor, indeed, when we have no half-wishes left us. The heart and the imagination close the shutters the instant they are gone.

Truth, like the juice of the poppy, in small quantities, calms men; in larger, heats and irritates them, and is attended by fatal consequences in excess.

The worse of ingratitude lies not in the ossified heart of him who commits it, but we find it in the effect it produces on him against whom it was committed.

Ridicule has followed the vestiges of truth, but never usurped her place.

An ingenious mind feels in unmerited praise the bitterest reproof.

I sometimes think that the most plaintive ditty has brought a fuller joy and of longer duration to its composer that the conquest of Persia to the Macedonian.

We are no longer happy so soon as we wish to be happier.