Of what violences, murders, depredations, have not the epic poets, from all antiquity, been the occasion, by propagating false honour, false glory, a… - Samuel Richardson

He has travelled. But is not human nature the same in every country, allowing only for different customs? — Do not Love, hatred, anger, malice, all the passions in short, good or bad, shew themselves by like effects in the faces, hearts, and actions of the people of every country?

I have just received my uncle’s Letter. And, after his charge upon me of Vanity and Pride, will my parade, as above, stand me in any stead? — I must trust to it. Only one word to my dear and everhonoured uncle — Don’t you, Sir, impute to me a belief of the truth of those extravagant compliments made by men professing Love to me; and I will not wish you to think me one bit the wiser, the handsomer, the better for them, than I was before.

Travelling! Young men travelling! I cannot, my dear, but think it a very nonsensical thing! What can they see, but the ruins of the gay, once busy world, of which they have read? To see a parcel of giddy boys, under the direction of tutors, or governors, hunting after — What? — Nothing; or at best but ruins of ruins; for the imagination, aided by reflection, must be lest, after all, to make out the greater glories which the grave-digger Time has buried too deep for discovery.