We love to chew the cud of a foregone vision; to collect the scattered rays of a brighter phantasm, or act over again, with firmer nerves, the sadder nocturnal tragedies.

Presents, I often say, endear absents.

You look wise, pray correct that error.

The world meets nobody half way.

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

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea.

If there be a regal solitude, it is a sick-bed. How the patient lords it there!