The only happy author in this world is he who is below the care of reputation.

Poetry is evidently a contagious complaint.

Redundancy of language is never found with deep reflection. Verbiage may indicate observation, but not thinking. He who thinks much says but little in proportion to his thoughts.

There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that trancends all other affections of the heart

A father may turn his back on his child, … . but a mother's love endures through all.

No man is so methodical as a complete idler, and none so scrupulous in measuring out his time as he whose time is worth nothing.

The tie which links mother and child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to be never violated, except by those whose feelings are withered by vitiated society. Holy, simple, and beautiful in its construction, it is the emblem of all we can imagine of fidelity and truth.