Charity, like nature, abhors a vacuum. Next to putting it in a bank, men like to squander their superfluous wealth on those to whom it is sure to be doing the least possible good.

We talk little when we do not talk about ourselves.

There is an unseemly exposure of the mind, as well as of the body.

Without life there can be no action — no objects of pursuit — no restless desires — no tormenting passions. Hence it is that we fondly cling to it — that we dread its termination as the close, not of enjoyment, but of hope.

No young man ever thinks he shall die.

True friendship is self-love at second-hand.

Like a rustic at a fair, we are full of amazement and rapture, and have no thought of going home, or that it will soon be night.