The days are cold, the nights are long, The North wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty love!

Scotland is the country above all others that I have seen, in which a man of imagination may carve out his own pleasures; there are so many inhabited solitudes.

The moon had the old moon in her arms.

I think one of the dullest things in the world is a letter filled with apologies for not writing sooner.

I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about and above them; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow, for weariness.

The days are cold, the nights are long, The North wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty love!

Upon the highest ridge of that round hill covered with planted oaks, the shafts of the trees show in the light like the columns of a ruin.