There is a joy in sorrow which none but a mourner can know.

Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.

Never write on a subject without first having read yourself full on it; and never read on a subject till you have thought yourself hungry on it.

Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years.

The purer the golden vessel, the more readily is it bent; the higher worth of woman is sooner lost than that of man.

He thought of the mouldering child, which laid its withered thin arms around his soul, as if it were his own, and to whom Death had given as much as a god gave to Endymion, — sleep, eternal youth, and immortality.

Humankind's chief fault is that they have so many small ones.