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

With spots of sunny openings, and with nooks To lie and read in, sloping into brooks.

I am persuaded there is no such thing after all as a perfect enjoyment of solitude; for the more delicious the solitude the more one wants a companion.

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.

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

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

There is no greater mistake in the world than the looking upon every sort of nonsense as want of sense.