Memory always obeys the commands of the heart.
The mischief of children is seldom actuated by malice; that of grown-up people always is.
Obtuseness is sometimes a virtue.
It is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to pursuit.
The despotism of will in ideas is styled plan, project, character, obstinacy; its despotism in desires is called passion.
There is even the dignity of vice.