If We Commit Any Crime, Or Do

Long Habit So Reconciles Us To Almost Any Thing, That The Grossest Improprieties Cease To Strike Us When They Once Make A Part Of The Common Course Of Action.

It May Be In Morals As It Is In Optics, The Eye And The Object May Come Too Close To Each Other, To Answer The End Of Vision. There Are Certain Faults Which Press Too Near Our Self-love To Be Even Perceptible To Us.

Rage Is For Little Wrongs; Despair Is Dumb.

Where Evil May Be Done, It Is Right To Ponder; Where Only Suffered, Know The Shortest Pause Is Much Too Long.

I Am Persuaded That There Is No Affection Of The Human Heart More Exquisitely Pure, Than That Which Is Felt By A Grateful Son Towards A Mother.