Asparagus inspires gentle thoughts.

The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard, Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice Of one, who from the far-off hills proclaims Tidings of good to Zion.

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

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.

I mean your borrowers of books - those mutilators of collections, spoilers of the symmetry of shelves, and creators of odd volumes.

The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.

English physicians kill you, the French let you die.