Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in: Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add-- Jenny kissed me!

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.

A large bare forehead gives a woman a masculine and defying look. The word "effrontery" comes from it. The hair should be brought over such a forehead as vines are trailed over a wall.

The loveliest hair is nothing, if the wearer is incapable of a grace.

The person who can be only serious or only cheerful, is but half a man.

There seems a life in hair, though it be dead.

An author is like a baker; it is for him to make the sweets, and others to buy and enjoy them.