Oh call it by some better name, For friendship sounds too cold.

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

Oh for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!

Cultivate simplicity or rather should I say banish elaborateness, for simplicity springs spontaneous from the heart.

Literature is a bad crutch, but a good walking-stick.

Much depends upon when and where you read a book. In the five or six impatient minutes before the dinner is quite ready, who would think of taking up the Faerie Queen for a stopgap, or a volume of Bishop Andrews's Sermons?

Oh, the pleasure of eating my dinner alone!