I Am Malicious Because I Am Miserable

The Air Of Fashion, Which Many Young People Are So Eager To Attain, Always Strikes Me Like The Studied Attitudes Of Some Modern Prints, Copied With Tasteless Servility After The Antigue; The Soul Is Left Out, And None Of The Parts Are Tied Together By What May Properly Be Termed Character.

How Mutable Are Our Feelings, And How Strange Is That Clinging Love We Have Of Life Even In The Excess Of Misery!

...if I See But One Smile On Your Lips When We Meet, Occasioned By This Or Any Other Exertion Of Mine, I Shall Need No Other Happiness.

A Mind Of Moderate Capacity Which Closely Pursues One Study Must Infallibly Arrive At Great Proficiency In That Study.

I Saw No Cause For Their Unhappiness, But I Was Deeply Affected By It. If Such Lovely Creatures Were Miserable, It Was Less Strange That I, An Imperfect And Solitary Being, Should Be Wretched.