I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.

A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.

Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear.

Words are the weak support of cold indifference; love has no language to be heard.

Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, and, as with living souls, have been inform'd, by magic numbers and persuasive sound.

Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

One minute gives invention to destroy; What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.