Certainly, friends are sufficiently rare not to be neglected; they are life's best comforters.

One fancies that what one loves cannot die.

One has so much time for thought in the country! However occupied one may be, 'tis with nothing that engrosses the mind, which works away on its own account like a mill-wheel.

A little time separates us from those who depart - a time of tears, a time of sadness and solitude; but, that over, we go to rejoin them and to enjoy with them the society of the blessed. Oh, how sweetly the heart rests in this immortal hope!

The effect of every burden laid down is to leave us relieved; and when the soul has laid down that of its faults at the feet of God, it feels as though it had wings.

The errors of the intellect are fatal, still more dangerous than those of the heart.

Solitude causes us to write because it causes us to think.