A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature.

I like you and your book, ingenious Hone! In whose capacious all-embracing leaves The very marrow of tradition 's shown; And all that history, much that fiction weaves.

'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we 're far from the lips we love, We 've but to make love to the lips we are near.

Is it a stale remark to say that I have constantly found the interest excited at a playhouse to bear an exact inverse proportion to the price paid for admission?

And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon.

Boys are capital fellows in their own way, among their mates; but they are unwholesome companions for grown people.

Merit, God knows, is very little rewarded.