no hour arrives so soon as the one we dread.

Strange the affection which clings to inanimate objects - objects which cannot even know our love! But it is not return that constitutes the strength of an attachment.

The stars are so far, far away!

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

There is no denying that there are 'royal roads' through existence for the upper classes; for them, at least, the highways are macadamized, swept, and watered.

The lover and the physician are each popular from the same cause - we talk to them of nothing but ourselves.

Affection exaggerates its own offenses.