Old persons are sometimes as unwilling to die as tired-out children are to say good night and go to bed.

But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exits and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.

I did not know till now how irresolute a character was mine.

Perhaps, she says (Madame de la Rougierre), Other souls than human are sometimes born into the world & clothed in human flesh.

What a fool I was! and yet, in the sight of angels, are we any wiser as we grow older? It seems to me, only, that our illusions change as we go on; but, still, we are madmen all the same.

Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.

No one likes a straight road but the man who pays for it, or who, when he travels, is brute enough to wish to get to his journey's end.