Heaven mocks the short-sighted views of man.
Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he isn't. A sense of humor was provided to console him for what he is.
This world is a comedy to those who think a tragedy to those who feel.
The best philosophy is to do one's duties to take the world as it comes submit respectfully to one's lot and bless the goodness that has given us so much happiness with it whatever it is.
My veracity is dearer to me than my life, said the peasant; nor would I purchase the one by forfeiting the other.
This life is but a pilgrimage.
I can forget injuries, but never benefits.
We are largely the playthings of our fears. To one fear of the dark to another of physical pain to a third of public ridicule to a fourth of poverty to a fifth of loneliness ... for all of us...
But alas! my Lord, what is blood! what is nobility! We are all reptiles, miserable, sinful creatures. It is piety alone that can distinguish us from the dust whence we sprung, and whither we must retu...
Old friends are the great blessing of one's later years. ... They have a memory of the same events and have the same mode of thinking.
To act with common sense according to the moment is the best wisdom and the best philosophy is to do one's duties to take the world as it comes submit respectfully to one's lot and bless the goo...
All very ancient history, except that of the illuminated Jews, is a perfect fable. It was written by priests, or collected from their reports; and calculated solely to raise lofty ideas of the origin...
In science, mistakes always precede the truth.
Plot, rules, nor even poetry, are not half so great beauties in tragedy or comedy as a just imitation of nature, of character, of the passions and their operations in diversified situations.
I fear no bad angel, and have offended no good one.
Historic justice is due to all characters. Who would not vindicate Henry the Eighth or Charles the Second, if found to be falsely traduced? Why then not Richard the Third?
A bystander often sees more of the game than those that play
Manfred, Prince of Otranto, had one son and one daughter: the latter, a most beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called Matilda. Conrad, the son, was three years younger, a homely youth, sickly, and...
It is natural for a translator to be prejudiced in favour of his adopted work. More impartial readers may not be so much struck with the beauties of this piece as I was. Yet I am not blind to my autho...
My soul abhors a falsehood