May be the truth is, that one pipe is wholesome, two pipes toothsome, three pipes noisome, four pipes fulsome, five pipes quarrelsome; and that's the some on't.

We love to chew the cud of a foregone vision; to collect the scattered rays of a brighter phantasm, or act over again, with firmer nerves, the sadder nocturnal tragedies.

I am in love with the green earth.

Asparagus inspires gentle thoughts.

Presents, I often say, endear absents.

No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference.

We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.