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

The busy have no time for tears.

Send me no more reviews of any kind. I will read no more of evil or good in that line. Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years .

The sight of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel.

I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.

I have always laid it down as a maxim -and found it justified by experience -that a man and a woman make far better friendships than can exist between two of the same sex -but then with the condition that they never have made or are to make love to each other.

Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.