This very night I am going to leave off tobacco! Surely there must be some other world in which this unconquerable purpose shall be realised.

The world meets nobody half way.

When true hearts lie wither'd And fond ones are flown, Oh, who would inhabit This bleak world alone?

Merit, God knows, is very little rewarded.

I hate a man who swallows [his food], affecting not to know what he is eating. I suspect his taste in higher matters.

What a dead thing is a clock, with its ponderous embowelments of lead and brass, its pert or solemn dullness of communication, compared with the simple altar-like structure and silent heart-language of the old sundials! It stood as the garden god of Christian gardens. Why is it almost everywhere vanished? If its business-use be superseded by more elaborate inventions, its moral uses, its beauty, might have pleaded for its continuance.

The beggar wears all colors fearing none.