Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.

His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.

He that runs may read.

Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good fame,--all these belong to virtue, and all prove that virtue has a title to your love.

A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.

We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.

God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs