Concealment Is The Foe Of Tranquility.

We Continually Say Things To Support An Opinion, Which We Have Given, That In Reality We Don't Above Half Mean.

The Laws Of Custom Make Our [returning A Visit] Necessary. O How I Hate This Vile Custom Which Obliges Us To Make Slaves Of Ourselves! To Sell The Most Precious Property We Boast, Our Time;--and To Sacrifice It To Every Prattling Impertinent Who Chooses To Demand It!

But How Cool, How Quiet Is True Courage!

Generosity Without Delicacy, Like Wit Without Judgment, Generally Gives As Much Pain As Pleasure.

There Is Something In Age That Ever, Even In Its Own Despite, Must Be Venerable, Must Create Respect And To Have It Ill Treated, Is To Me Worse, More Cruel And Wicked Than Anything On Earth