Eternity doth wear upon her face the veil of time. They only see the veil, and thus they know not what they stand so near!

A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.

Stirling, like a huge brooch, clasps Highlands and Lowlands together.

There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.

Fine phrases I value more than bank-notes. I have ear for no other harmony than the harmony of words. To be occasionally quoted is the only fame I care for.

Your death and my death are mainly of importance to ourselves. The black plumes will be stripped off our hearses within the hour; tears will dry, hurt hearts close again, our graves grow level with the church-yard, and although we are away, the world wags on. It does not miss us; and those who are near us, when the first strangeness of vacancy wears off, will not miss us much either.

A brave soul is a thing which all things serve.