Grief is, of all the passions, the one that is the most ingenious and indefatigable in finding food for its own subsistence.

There is no magician like love.

Calumny is the offspring of Envy.

Yes, the meeting of dear friends atones for the regret of separation; and like it so much enhances affection, that after absence one wonders how one has been able to stay away from them so long.

Memory seldom fails when its office is to show us the tombs of our buried hopes.

Tears fell from my eyes - yes, weak and foolish as it now appears to me, I wept for my departed youth; and for that beauty of which the faithful mirror too plainly assured me, no remnant existed.

We have a reading, a talking, and a writing public. When shall we have a thinking?