Scepticism commonly takes up the room left by defect of imagination, and is the very quality of mind most likely to seek for sensual proof of supersensual things. If one came from the dead it could not believe; and yet it longs for such a witness, and will put up with a very dubious one.

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.

While tenderness of feeling and susceptibility to generous emotions are accidents of temperament, goodness is an achievement of the will and a quality of the life.

Time is, after all, the greatest of poets; and the sons of Memory stand a better chance of being the heirs of Fame.

Granting our wish is one of Fate's saddest jokes.

Tyrants are but the spawn of Ignorance, Begotten by the slaves they trample on.

Reading Chaucer is like brushing through the dewy grass at sunrise.