Farewell's a bitter word to say.
I hate the word 'ought' - it always implies something dull, cold, and commonplace. The 'ought nots' of life are its pleasantest things.
The heart's hushed secret in the soft dark eye.
Knowledge is much like dust - it sticks to one, one does not know how.
Are we not like the actor of old times, who wore his mask so long his face took its likeness?
The truth is, we like to talk over our disasters, because they are ours; and others like to listen, because they are not theirs.