As we advance in life, we acquire a keener sense of the value of time. Nothing else, indeed, seems of any consequence; and we become misers in this respect.

The pleasure of hating, like a poisonous mineral, eats into the heart of religion, and turns it to ranking spleen and bigotry; it makes patriotism an excuse for carrying fire, pestilence, and famine into other lands: it leaves to virtue nothing but the spirit of censoriousness.

We learn to curb our will and keep our overt actions within the bounds of humanity, long before we can subdue our sentiments and imaginations to the same mild tone.

Books wind into the heart.

You know more of a road by having traveled it than by all the conjectures and descriptions in the world.

Every man, in his own opinion, forms an exception to the ordinary rules of morality.

We go on a journey to be free of all impediments; to leave ourselves behind much more than to get rid of others