And there I sat, long long ago, waiting for the world to know me.

The sorrow that lay cold in her mother's heart... converted it into a tomb.

A vast deal of human sympathy runs along the electric line of needlework, stretching from the throne to the wicker chair of the humble seamstress.

The love of posterity is the consequence of the necessity of death. If a man were sure of living forever here, he would not care about his offspring.

Earth has one angel less and heaven one more, since yesterday.

We go all wrong by too strenuous a resolution to go right.

Mankind are earthen jugs with spirits in them.