How beautiful, buoyant, and glad is morning! The first sunshine on the leaves: the first wind, laden with the first breath of the flowers—that deep sigh with which they seem to waken from sleep; the first dew, untouched even by the light foot of the early hare; the first chirping of the rousing birds, as if eager to begin song and flight; all is redolent of the strength given by rest, and the joy of conscious life.

It merely shews, after all, that affection is a habit.

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.

Consistency is a human word, but it certainly expresses nothing human.

There is no wretchedness like self-reproach.

In marriage, as in chemistry, opposites have often an attraction.

The past is perpetual youth to the heart.