My heart is its own grave!

One of the greatest of all mental pleasures is to have our thoughts often divined: ever entered into with sympathy.

doubts, like facts, are stubborn things.

charity is a calm, severe duty; it must be intellectual, to be advantageous. It is a strange mistake that it should ever be considered a merit; its fulfillment is only what we owe to each other, and is a debt never paid to its full extent.

Alas! we give our own coloring to the actions of others.

The past is perpetual youth to the heart.

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