In my garden, care stops at the gate and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.

A thought may be very commendable as a thought, but I value it chiefly as a window through which I can obtain insight on the thinker.

My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.

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

I have learned to prize the quiet, lightning deed, not the applauding thunder at its heels that men call fame.

Happiness never lays its finger on its pulse. If we attempt to steal a glimpse of its features it disappears.