Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.

The well of true wit is truth itself.

Cultivated men and women who do not skim the cream of life, and are attached to the duties, yet escape the harsher blows, make acute and balanced observers.

There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.

Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!

But O the truth, the truth. The many eyes That look on it The diverse things they see.

A woman who is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if you are surely that. . .