C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.

Nabb

It is the curse of greatness

To be its own destruction.

Philosophy, religious solitude

And labour wait on temperance; in these

Desire is bounded; they instruct the mind’s

And body’s action.

Treachery oft lurks

In compliments. You have sent so many posts

Of undertakings, they outride performance;

And make me think your fair pretences aim

At some intended ill, which my prevention

Must strive to avert.

What can we not endure,

When pains are lessen’d by the hope of cure?

Fortitude is not the appetite of formidable things, nor inconsult rashness; but virtue fighting for a truth, derived from knowledge of distinguishing good or bad causes.

It is, indeed, a blessing, when the virtues of noble races are hereditary; and do derive themselves from the imitation of virtuous ancestors.

There’s not so much danger in a known foe as a suspected friend.

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