Of Belief Human mathematics, so to speak, like the length of life, are subject to the doctrine of chances.
The execution of any thing considerable implies in the first place previous persevering meditation.
Power is not happiness.
What can be more clear and sound in explanation, than the love of a parent to his child?
There must be room for the imagination to exercise its powers; we must conceive and apprehend a thousand things which we do not actually witness.
But the watchful care of the parent is endless. The youth is never free from the danger of grating interference.
Power is not happiness. Security and peace are more to be desired than a man at which nations tremble.
The lessons of their early youth regulated the conduct of their riper years.
We cannot perform our tasks to the best of our power, unless we think well of our own capacity.
The virtue of a human being is the application of his capacity to the general good.
One of the prerogatives by which man is eminently distinguished from all other living beings inhabiting this globe of earth, consists in the gift of reason.
My thoughts will be taken up with the future or the past, with what is to come or what has been. Of the present there is necessarily no image.
Man is the only creature we know, that, when the term of his natural life is ended, leaves the memory of himself behind him.
The diligent scholar is he that loves himself, and desires to have reason to applaud and love himself.
If there be such a thing as truth, it must infallibly be struck out by the collision of mind with mind.
Perfectibility is one of the most unequivocal characteristics of the human species.
If admiration were not generally deemed the exclusive property of the rich, and contempt the constant lackey of poverty, the love of gain would cease to be an universal problem.
The first duty of man is to take none of the principles of conduct upon trust; to do nothing without a clear and individual conviction that it is right to be done.
In cases where every thing is understood, and measured, and reduced to rule, love is out of the question.
There can be no passion, and by consequence no love, where there is not imagination.
We are so curiously made that one atom put in the wrong place in our original structure will often make us unhappy for life.