I suppose as long as novels last, and authors aim at interesting their public, there must always be in the story a virtuous and gallant hero; a wicked monster, his opposite; and a pretty girl, who finds a champion. Bravery and virtue conquer beauty; and vice, after seeming to triumph through a certain number of pages, is sure to be discomfited in the last volume, when justice overtakes him, and honest folks come by their own.

Frequent the company of your betters.

Oh, those women! They nurse and cuddle their presentiments, and make darlings of their ugliest thoughts.

Life is soul's nursery- its training place for the destinies of eternity.

Under the magnetism of friendship the modest man becomes bold; the shy, confident; the lazy, active; and the impetuous, prudent and peaceful.

The affection of young ladies is of as rapid growth as Jack's beanstalk, and reaches up to the sky in a night.

The death of a child occasions a passion of grief and frantic tears, such as your end, brother reader, will never inspire.