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.

Whatever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves... how we can turn it into good. So shall we take occasion, from one bitter root, to raise perhaps many flowers.

The perfection of conversational intercourse is when the breeding of high life is animated by the fervor of genius.

Danger for danger's sake is senseless.

Night's deepest gloom is but a calm; that soothes the weary mind: The labored days restoring balm; the comfort of mankind.

Improvement is nature.