When what is good comes of age, and is likely to live, there is reason for rejoicing.

Love is frightened at the intervals of insensibility and callousness that encroach by little and little on the domain of grief, and it makes efforts to recall the keenness of the first anguish.

When what is good comes of age, and is likely to live, there is reason for rejoicing.

The devil tempts us not--'tis we tempt him, Reckoning his skill with opportunity.

Our passions do not live apart in locked chambers but dress in their small wardrobe of notions, bring their provisions to a common table and mess together, feeding out of the common store according to their appetite.

Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement.

I think there are stores laid up in our human nature that our understandings can make no complete inventory of.