There Is A Boundary To Men's Passions

Taste And Elegance, Though They Are Reckoned Only Among The Smaller And Secondary Morals, Yet Are Of No Mean Importance In The Regulations Of Life. A Moral Taste Is Not Of Force To Turn Vice Into Virtue; But It Recommends Virtue With Something Like The Blandishments Of Pleasure, And It Infinitely Abates The Evils Of Vice.

Old Religious Factions Are Volcanoes Burned Out; On The Lava And Ashes And Squalid Scoriae Of Old Eruptions Grow The Peaceful Olive, The Cheering Vine And The Sustaining Corn.

The Moment You Abate Anything From The Full Rights Of Men To Each Govern Himself, And Suffer Any Artificial Positive Limitation Upon Those Rights, From That Moment The Whole Organization Of Government Becomes A Consideration Of Convenience.

To Prove That The Americans Ought Not To Be Free, We Are Obliged To Deprecate The Value Of Freedom Itself.

Whatever Is Fitted In Any Sort To Excite The Ideas Of Pain And Danger, That Is To Say, Whatever Is In Any Sort Terrible, Or Is Conversant About Terrible Objects, Or Operates In A Manner Analogous To Terror, Is A Source Of The Sublime; That Is, It Is Productive Of The Strongest Emotion Which The Mind Is Capable Of Feeling... When Danger Or Pain Press Too Nearly, They Are Incapable Of Giving Any Delight, And Are Simply Terrible; But At Certain Distances, And With Certain Modifications, They May Be, And They Are, Delightful, As We Every Day Experience.