Affection exaggerates its own offenses.

Every other species of talent carries with it its eternity; we enjoy the work of the poet, the painter, the sculptor, only as thousands will do after us; but the actor - his memory is with his generation, and that passes away.

No thoroughly occupied man was ever yet very miserable.[to feel unhappy you need the time to consider how your lot could be better]

An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence.

There is a large stock on hand; but somehow or other, nobody's experience ever suits us but our own.

Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

Affection exaggerates its own offenses.