There is some comfort in dying surrounded by one's children.

I never trust people's assertions, I always judge of them by their actions.

But no matter for that, you can be tolerably happy, perhaps, notwithstanding; but as for guessing how happy I am, or knowing anything about the matter,--- O! its quite beyond what you can understand.

Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns, And as the portal opens to receive me, A voice in hollow murmurs through the courts Tells of a nameless deed.

Never will I give my hand where my heart does not accompany it.

There is some magic in wealth, which can thus make persons pay their court to it, when it does not even benefit themselves.

It is dismal coming home, when there is nobody to welcome one!