Death is like the setting of the sun. The sun never sets; life never ceases. ... we think the sun sets, and it never ceases shining; we think our friends die, and they never cease living.

But the lover's power is the poet's power. He can make love from all the common strings with which this world is strung.

It is little men know of women; their smiles and their tears alike are seldom what they seem.

what is unreasonable is irrefutable.

Injustice is a sixth sense, and rouses all the others.

... though mathematics may teach a man how to build a bridge, it is what the Scotch Universities call the humanities, that teach him to be civil and sweet-tempered.

For still I see that forethought spares afterthought and after-sorrow.