There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.

After all, it is the divinity within that makes the divinity without; and I have been more fascinated by a woman of talent and intelligence, though deficient in personal charms, than I have been by the most regular beauty.

One point is certain, that truth is one and immutable; until the jurors all agree, they cannot all be right.

[I]n the gloomy month of February.... The Deserts of Arabia are not more dreary and inhospitable than the streets of London at such a time.

Into the space of one little hour sins enough may be conjured up by evil tongues to blast the fame of a whole life of virtue.

There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse.

He who wins a thousand common hearts is entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero.