If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.

Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.

It is not for minds like ours to give or to receive flatter; yet the praises of sincerity have ever been permitted to the voice of friendship

Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.

They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.

A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.