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.

As long as I retain my feeling and my passion for Nature, I can partly soften or subdue my other passions and resist or endure those of others.

Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.

Keep thy smooth words and juggling homilies for those who know thee not.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

What an antithetical mind! - tenderness, roughness - delicacy, coarseness - sentiment, sensuality - soaring and groveling, dirt and deity - all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay!

One hates an author that's all author.