Social Sorrow Loses Half Its Pain.

Resentment Is A Union Of Sorrow With Malignity; A Combination Of A Passion Which All Endeavor To Avoid With A Passion Which All Concur To Detest.

Every Man Naturally Persuades Himself That He Can Keep His Resolutions, Nor Is He Convinced Of His Imbecility But By Length Of Time And Frequency Of Experiment.

Hypocrisy Is The Necessary Burden Of Villainy, Affectation Part Of The Chosen Trappings Of Folly; The One Completes A Villain, The Other Only Finishes A Fop.

Nature Makes Us Poor Only When We Want Necessaries, But Custom Gives The Name Of Poverty To The Want Of Superfluities.

Hope Is Necessary In Every Condition. The Miseries Of Poverty, Of Sickness, Or Captivity, Would, Without This Comfort, Be Insupportable; Nor Does It Appear That The Happiest Lot Of Terrestrial Existence Can Set Us Above The Want Of This General Blessing; Or That Life, When The Gifts Of Nature And Of Fortune Are Accumulated Upon It, Would Not Still Be Wretched, Were It Not Elevated And Delighted By The Expectation Of Some New Possession, Of Some Enjoyment Yet Behind, By Which The Wish Shall At Last Be Satisfied, And The Heart Filled Up To Its Utmost Extent.