Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have nonsense respected.

In the indications of female poverty there can be no disguise. No woman dresses below herself from caprice.

Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.

I have had playmates, I have had companions; In my days of childhood, in my joyful school days - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

Brandy and water spoils two good things.

Is the world all grown up? Is childhood dead? Or is there not in the bosom of the wisest and the best some of the child's heart left, to respond to its earliest enchantments?

What have I gained by health? Intolerable dullness. What by mode meals? A total blank.