Delicious tears! The heart's own dew.

it is a curious fact, but one which all experience owns, that people do not desire so much to appear better, as to appear different from what they really are.

The heart's hushed secret in the soft dark eye.

I do not think that life has a suspense more sickening than that of expecting a letter which does not come.

It merely shews, after all, that affection is a habit.

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

Youth is a season that has no repose.