...crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.

If you once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, it is all over. Bolt up at once.

The heart-sick faintness of the hope delayed!

Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell.

Teach you children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.

It is only when I dally with what I am about, look back and aside, instead of keeping my eyes straight forward, that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart.

Of all vices, drinking is the most incompatible with greatness.