Even The Greatest Actions Of A Celebrated

A Perfect Tragedy Is The Noblest Production Of Human Nature.

Wine Heightens Indifference Into Love, Love Into Jealousy, And Jealousy Into Madness. It Often Turns The Good-natured Man Into An Idiot, And The Choleric Into An Assassin. It Gives Bitterness To Resentment, It Makes Vanity Insupportable, And Displays Every Little Spot Of The Soul In Its Utmost Deformity.

There Is Nothing Which Strengthens Faith More Than The Observance Of Morality.

It Generally Takes Its Rise Either From An Ill-will To Mankind, A Private Inclination To Make Ourselves Esteemed, An Ostentation Of Wit, And Vanity Of Being Thought In The Secrets Of The World; Or From A Desire Of Gratifying Any Of These Dispositions Of Mind In Those Persons With Whom We Converse.

Mere Bashfulness Without Merit Is Awkwardness.