Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.

And angling too, that solitary vice, What Izaak Walton sings or says: The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.

Love rules the camp, the court, the grove - for love is Heaven, and Heaven is love.

I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.

I had a dream, which was not at all a dream.

Years steal fire from the mind as vigor from the limb; and life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!