The pilasters reaching down were adorned with a glistering substance (I know not what) under glass (as it seemed), resembling - a homely fancy, but I judged it to be sugar-candy; yet to my raised imagination, divested of its homelier qualities, it appeared a glorified candy.
Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength.
Damn the age. I'll write for antiquity.
A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature.
My motto is: Contented with little, yet wishing for more.
Our spirits grow gray before our hairs.