The best prophet of the future is the past.

A pretty woman is a welcome guest.

I have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.

Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.

Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.

The fact is that my wife if she had common sense would have more power over me than any other whatsoever, for my heart always alights upon the nearest perch.

In secret we met - In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears