Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.

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 .

Happiness was born a twin.

[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.

For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.

But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.

Muse of the many twinkling feet, whose charms are now extending up from legs to arms.