I dislike clocks with second-hands; they cut up life into too small pieces.

. . . it seldom happens, I think, that a man has the civility to die when all the world wishes it.

there are some people who never acknowledge themselves in the wrong; God help them!

. . . this life is a perpetual chequer-work of good and evil, pleasure and pain. When in possession of what we desire, we are only so much the nearer losing it; and when at a distance from it, we live in expectation of enjoying it again.

There are twelve hours in the day, and above fifty in the night.

The heart has no wrinkles.

We must always live in hope; without that consolation there would be no living.