In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
I could never hate anyone I knew.
I'd like to grow very old as slowly as possible.
To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.
Presents, I often say, endear absents.
Oh, ever thus, from childhood's hour, I 've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree or flower But 't was the first to fade away. I never nurs'd a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well And love me, it was sure to die.