God makes many poets, but he only gives utterance to a few.

We never discover the value of things till we have lost them.

Not perhaps until later life, until the follies, passions, and selfishness of youth have died out, do we . . . recognize the the inestimable blessing, the responsibility awful as sweet, of possessing or of being a friend.

O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves.

To accept the inevitable; neither to struggle against it nor murmur at it-this is the great lesson of life.

Love never stands still; it must inevitably be either growing or decaying - especially the love of marriage.

Wedlock's a lane where there is no turning.