Moroseness is the evening of turbulence.

A critic is never too severe when he only detects the faults of an author. But he is worse than too severe when, in consequence of this detection, be presumes to place himself on a level with genius.

Something of the severe hath always been appertaining to order and to grace; and the beauty that is not too liberal is sought the most ardently, and loved the longest.

The most pernicious of absurdities is that weak, blind, stupid faith is better than the constant practice of every human virtue.

The spirit of Greece, passing through and ascending above the world, hath so animated universal nature, that the very rocks and woods, the very torrents and wilds burst forth with it.

A man's vanity tells him what is honor, a man's conscience what is justice.

The deafest man can hear praise, and is slow to think any an excess.