Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.
It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
There is pleasure in the pathless woods.
I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation -- they are all better than us and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.