All things are dark to sorrow.
Money is everything in this world to some people, and more than the next to other poor souls.
Oh! what a luxury it is to weep, / And find in tears a sad relief!
It is a mournful thing to know that you are utterly isolated among millions of human beings; that not a drop of your blood flows in any other veins.
Oh, Duty is an icy shadow!
Life does not count by years. Some suffer a lifetime in a day, and so grow old between the rising and the setting of the sun.