Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.
In the wide pile, by others heeded not, Hers was one sacred solitary spot, Whose gloomy aisles and bending shelves contain For moral hunger food, and cures for moral pain.
No word of commiseration can make a burden feel one feather's weight lighter to the slave who must carry it.
I did not myself set a high estimation on wealth, and had the affectation of most young men of lively imagination, who suppose that they can better dispense with the possession of money, than resign their time and faculties to the labour necessary to...
