Yet, in these autumn days when Nature expires, Here, in these veiled scenes, I find more attractions; It is a friend's sad goodbye; it is the last smile From lips that death is going to close forever!

Ink is the transcript of thought.

Mystery hovers over all things here below.

We cannot have two hearts, one for the animals and one for men. In cruelty towards the former and cruelty to the latter there is no difference but in the victim.

Eloquence dwells quite as much in the hearts of the hearers as on the lips of the orator.

Eternity is so certain and so terrible that a thousand lives would not suffice to prepare for it.

A conscience without God is like a court without a judge.