It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands, Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream, And times and things, as in that vision, seem Keeping along it their eternal stands.

I entrench myself in my books equally against sorrow and the weather.

The same people who can deny others everything are famous for refusing themselves nothing.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter, Stolen kisses much completer, Stolen looks are nice in chapels, Stolen, stolen be your apples.

Affection, like melancholy, magnifies trifles.

One can love any man that is generous.

To receive a present handsomely and in a right spirit, even when you have none to give in return, is to give one in return.