Quotes by Robert Blair

• Its visits, like those of angels, short, and far between.
• Of joys departed, not to return, how painful the remembrance.
• When it draws near to witching time of night.
• The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
• Action, so to speak, is the genius of nature.
• Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul, Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society.
• Affectation is certain deformity; by forming themselves on fantastic models, the young begin with being ridiculous, and often end in being vicious.
• How blunt are all the arrows of thy quiver in comparison with those of guilt.