So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.

The soul...is audible, not visible.

Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king.

A word that has been said may be unsaid-it is but air. But when a deed is done, it cannot be undone, nor can our thoughts reach out to all the mischiefs that may follow.

Three silences there are: the first of speech, the second of desire, the third of thought.

Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.

The secret studies of an author are the sunken piers upon which is to rest the bridge of his fame, spanning the dark waters of oblivion. They are out of sight, but without them no superstructure can stand secure.