“All objects lose by too familiar a view.”

Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections.

God never made his work for man to mend.

Luxurious kings are to their people lost, They live like drones, upon the public cost.

There’s a proud modesty in merit; averse from asking, and resolved to pay ten times the gifts it asks.

Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes… Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.

Repentance is but want of power to sin.

The love of liberty with life is given, And life itself the inferior gift of Heaven.

Virtue in distress, and vice in triumph make atheists of mankind.

Nothing to build, and all things to destroy.

But how can finite grasp Infinity?

Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

Love is a passion Which kindles honor into noble acts.

Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail: But common interest always will prevail; And pity never ceases to be shown To him who makes the people’s wrongs his own.

Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.

Truth is never to be expected from authors whose understanding is warped with enthusiasm.

The place is changed now, and many familiar faces are gone, but the greatest change is myself.

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.

We are all familiar with the argument: Make war dreadful enough, and there will be no war. And we none of us believe it.

I’m lucky to have family around me. Otherwise, I’ll be taking the risk of falling in love with myself.

The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but as a family; this resentment expressed itself in an added perfection of raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an exaggeration of family importance, and the sniff.

We kiss again and this time, it feels familiar.

From morning till night, sounds drift from the kitchen, most of them familiar and comforting. . . . On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it; it dries the wet sock, it cools the hot little brain.

We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange.