Peace begins just where ambition ends.

Fondness for fame is avarice of air.

A fool at forty is a fool indeed.

The love of praise, however concealed by art, reigns more or less, and glows in every heart.

The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels.

True happiness ne’er entered at an eye; true happiness resides in things unseen.

We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile — The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry.

One to destroy, is murder by the law, and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe, to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.

Titles are marks of honest men, and wise; The fool or knave that wears a title lies.

The future seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done.