Sneering springs out of the wish to deny; and wretched must that state of mind be that wishes to take refuge in doubt.
Jealousy ought to be tragic, to save it from being ridiculous.
I have no parting sigh to give, so take my parting smile.
A sealed book, at whose contents we tremble.
In sad truth, half our forebodings of our neighbors are but our own wishes, which we are ashamed to utter in any other form.
How often, in this cold and bitter world, is the warm heart thrown back upon itself! Cold, careless, are we of another's grief; we wrap ourselves in sullen selfishness.