As Is Our Confidence, So Is Our

The Mind Of Man Is Like A Clock That Is Always Running Down, And Requires To Be Constantly Wound Up.

An Accomplished Coquette Excites The Passions Of Others, In Proportion As She Feels None Herself.

Our Contempt For Others Proves Nothing But The Illiberality And Narrowness Of Our Own Views.

Vice, Like Disease, Floats In The Atmosphere.

There Cannot Be A Surer Proof Of Low Origin, Or Of An Innate Meanness Of Disposition, Than To Be Always Talking And Thinking Of Being Genteel.