What is life? A gulf of troubled waters, where the soul, like a vexed bark, is tossed upon the waves of pain and pleasure by the wavering breath of passions.

Nothing but love can answer to love; no affection, no kindness, no care, can supply its place: it is its own sweet want.

We would liken music to Aladdin's lamp — worthless in itself, not so for the spirits which obey its call. We love it for the buried hopes, the garnered memories, the tender feelings, it can summon with a touch.

What is life? A gulf of troubled waters, where the soul, like a vexed bark, is tossed upon the waves of pain and pleasure by the wavering breath of passions.

in came ... a baby, eloquent as infancy usually is, and like most youthful orators, more easily heard than understood.

To this hour, the great science and duty of politics is lowered by the petty leaven of small and personal advantage.

Memory has many conveniences, and, among others, that of foreseeing things as they have afterwards happened.