“Pride is less ashamed of being ignorant, than of being instructed, and she looks too high to find that, which very often lies beneath her.”

An Irish man fights before he reasons, a Scotchman reasons before he fights, an Englishman is not particular as to the order of precedence, but will do either to accommodate his customers.

It may be observed of good writing, as of good blood, that it is much easier to say what it is composed of than to compose it.

In life we shall find many men that are great, and some that are good, but very few men that are both great and good.

There is this difference between happiness and wisdom; he that thinks himself the happiest man, really is so; but he that thinks himself the wisest, is generally the greatest fool.

The rich are more envied by those who have a little, than by those who have nothing.

True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it is lost.

Cruel men are the greatest lovers of Mercy, avaricious men of generosity, and proud men of humility; that is to say, in other, not in themselves.

Pure truth, like pure gold, has been found unfit for circulation because men have discovered that it is far more convenient to adulterate the truth than to refine themselves.

That which we acquire with the most difficulty we retain the longest; as those who have earned a fortune are usually more careful of it than those who have inherited one.

Silence is foolish if we are wise, but wise if we are foolish.

Imitation is the sincerest of flattery.

We are sure to be losers when we quarrel with ourselves; it is civil war.

The two most precious things this side of the grave are our reputation and our life. But it is to be lamented that the most contemptible whisper may deprive us of the one, and the weakest weapon of the other.

He that dies a martyr proves that he was not a knave, but by no means that he was not a fool.

To know the pains of power, we must go to those who have it; to know its pleasures, we must go to those who are seeking it: the pains of power are real, its pleasures imaginary.

It is curious that some learned dunces, because they can write nonsense in languages that are dead, should despise those that talk sense in languages that are living.