Few save the poor feel for the poor.

Eyes that droop like summer flowers.

Of all false assertions that ever went into the world under the banner of a great name and the mail armor of a well-turned phrase, Locke's comparison of the mind to a blank sheet of paper appears to me among the most untrue.

Childhood, whose very happiness is love.

Curiosity is its own suicide.

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.

How beautiful, how buoyant, and glad is morning!