Nothing but love can answer to love; no affection, no kindness, no care, can supply its place: it is its own sweet want.

Perhaps, from an innate desire of justification, sorrow always exaggerates itself. Memory is quite one of Job's friends; and the past is ever ready to throw its added darkness on the present.

Praise is sometimes a good thing for the diffident and the despondent. It teaches them properly to rely on the kindness of others.

Every other species of talent carries with it its eternity; we enjoy the work of the poet, the painter, the sculptor, only as thousands will do after us; but the actor - his memory is with his generation, and that passes away.

no hour arrives so soon as the one we dread.

One would think that an unsuccessful volume was like a degree in the school of reviewing. One unread work makes the judge bitter enough; but a second failure, and he is quite desperate in his damnation. I do believe one half of the injustice - the severity of 'the ungentle craft' originates in its own want of success: they cannot forgive the popularity which has passed them over.

The rich know not how hard it is to be of needful rest and needful food debarred.