How convalescence shrinks a man back to his pristine stature! where is now the space, which he occupied so lately, in his own, in the family's eye?

Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.

He who hath not a dram of folly in his mixture hath pounds of much worse matter in his composition.

Science has succeeded to poetry, no less in the little walks of children than with men. Is there no possibility of averting this sore evil?

Not childhood alone, but the young man till thirty, never feels practically that he is mortal.

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

Oft in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken.