If You Are Ever At A Loss

When Moral Courage Feels That It Is In The Right, There Is No Personal Daring Of Which It Is Incapable.

Nature, At All Events, Humanly Speaking, Is Manifestly Very Fond Of Color; For She Has Made Nothing Without It. Her Skies Are Blue; Her Fields, Green; Her Waters Vary With Her Skies; Her Animals, Vegetables, Minerals, Are All Colored. She Paints A Great Any Of Them In Apparently Superfluous Hues, As If To Show The Dullest Eye How She Loves Color.

An Author Is Like A Baker; It Is For Him To Make The Sweets, And Others To Buy And Enjoy Them.

There Is No Greater Mistake In The World Than The Looking Upon Every Sort Of Nonsense As Want Of Sense.

Affection, Like Melancholy, Magnifies Trifles.