Life's bloomy flush was lost.

A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.

He tried the luxury of doing good.

There is no mind so weak and powerless as not to have its inclinations, and none so guarded as to be without its prepossessions.

We cannot heal the throbbing heart till we discern the wounds within.

Whatever amuses, serves to kill time, to lull the faculties, and to banish reflection. Whatever entertains, usually awakens the understanding or gratifies the fancy. Whatever diverts, is lively in its nature, and sometimes tumultuous in its effects.

Books cannot always please, however good; Minds are not ever craving for their food.