Ah! The seasons of love roll not backward but onward, downward forever.

It is not great, but little good-haps that make up happiness.

Every man regards his own life as the New Year's Eve of time.

Remembrances last longer than present realities.

In later life, as in earlier, only a few persons influence the formation of our character; the multitude pass us by like a distant army. One friend, one teacher, one beloved, one club, one dining table, one work table are the means by which one's nation and the spirit of one's nation affect the individual.

The romance of life begins and ends with two blank pages. Age and extreme old age.

Variety of mere nothings gives more pleasure than uniformity of something.