Time, O my friend, is money! Time wasted can never conduce to money well managed.

Nothing really immoral is ever permanently popular.

Midnight, and love, and youth, and Italy!

A mind once cultivated will not lie fallow for half an hour.

A chord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting, and time's busy fingers are not practiced in re-splicing broken ties. Meet again you may; will it be in the same way? With the same sympathies? With the same sentiments? Will the souls, hurrying on in diverse paths, unite once more, as if the interval had been a dream? Rarely, rarely!

If you are in doubt whether to write a letter or not, don't. And the advice applies to many doubts in life besides that of letter writing.

We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth; there is a realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will be spread before us like islands that slumber on the ocean, and where the beings that pass before us like shadows will stay in our presence forever.