Forever is made up of nows.

Here is a little forest Whose leaf is ever green; Here is a brighter garden, Where not a frost has been; In its unfading flowers I hear the bright bee hum; Prithee, my brother, Into my garden come!

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

It is true that the unknown is the largest need of the intellect, though for it, no one thinks to thank God.

Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve, and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it, when every urchin in the street has more than he can eat.

Drunkards of summer are quite as frequent as Drunkards of wine.

My love for those I love -- not many -- not very many, but don't I love them so?