Perhaps, from an innate desire of justification, sorrow always exaggerates itself. Memory is quite one of Job's friends; and the past is ever ready to throw its added darkness on the present.

there is nothing so easy as to be wise for others; a species of prodigality, by-the-by - for such wisdom is wholly wasted.

Business before pleasure.

I do love violets; they tell the history of woman's love.

Assuredly, meeting after absence, is one of - ah, no! - it is life's most delicious feeling.

I hate the word 'ought' - it always implies something dull, cold, and commonplace. The 'ought nots' of life are its pleasantest things.

Curiosity is its own suicide.