Not many sounds in life, and I include all urban and all rural sounds, exceed in interest a knock at the door.

Of all sound of all bells... most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year.

A garden was the primitive prison, till man with Promethean felicity and boldness, luckily sinned himself out of it.

The light that lies In woman's eyes.

The only true time which a man can properly call his own, is that which he has all to himself; the rest, though in some sense he may be said to live it, is other people's time, not his.

The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.