She was like me in lineaments-- her eyes Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty; She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears-- which I had not; And tenderness-- but that I had for her; Humility-- and that I never had. Her faults were mine-- her virtues were her own-- I loved her, and destroy'd her!

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country.

There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

Let none think to fly the danger for soon or late love is his own avenger.

I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.