The wild-flower wreath of feeling, the sunbeam of the heart.

They love their land, because it is their own, And scorn to give aught other reason why; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his majesty. - Fitz

What is man's love? His vows are broke even while his parting kiss is warm.

It is a rich storehouse for those who love quotations. It is as full of fine bon mots as a Christmas pudding is full of plums.

I cannot spare the luxury of believing that all things beautiful are what they seem.

The wild-flower wreath of feeling, the sunbeam of the heart.

I sorrow that all fair things must decay.