Hail! the small courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make the road of it, like grace and beauty, which beget inclinations to love at first sight; it is ye who open the door and let the stranger in.

To write a book is for all the world like humming a song.

It is sweet to feel by what fine spun threads our affections are drawn together.

Keyholes are the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other holes in this world put together.

I am persuaded that every time a man smiles - but much more so when he laughs - it adds something to this fragment of life.

So long as a man rides his hobbyhorse peaceably and quietly along the King's highway, and neither compels you or me to get up behind him - pray, Sir, what have either you or I to do with it?

Ye whose clay-cold heads and luke-warm hearts can argue down or mask your passions--tell me, what trespass is it that man should have them?... If nature has so wove her web of kindness, that some threads of love and desire are entangled with the piece--must the whole web be rent in drawing them out?