When a man has not a good reason for doing a thing, he has one good reason for letting it alone.

There is a vulgar incredulity, which in historical matters, as well as in those of religion, finds it easier to doubt than to examine.

Art thou a friend to Roderick?

A mother's pride, a father's joy.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.

The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other. We cannot exist without mutual help. All therefore that need aid have a right to ask it from their fellow-men; and no one who has the power of granting can refuse it without guilt.

The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition of constant close contact.