No one was ever scolded out of their sins.

An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.

Not to understand a treasure's worth till time has stole away the slighted good, is cause of half the poverty we feel, and makes the world the wilderness it is.

Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.

Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies... To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.

The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.

We sacrifice to dress till household joys and comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, and keeps our larder lean.