In our road through life we may happen to meet with a man casting a stone reverentially to enlarge the cairn of another which stone he has carried in his bosom to sling against that very other's head.

Of all false assertions that ever went into the world under the banner of a great name and the mail armor of a well-turned phrase, Locke's comparison of the mind to a blank sheet of paper appears to me among the most untrue.

Assuredly, meeting after absence, is one of - ah, no! - it is life's most delicious feeling.

There are words to paint the misery of love, but none to paint its happiness.

Hopes and regrets are the sweetest links of existence.

The past is perpetual youth to the heart.

Youth is a season that has no repose.