Ah me! the world is full of meetings such as this,--a thrill, a voiceless challenge and reply, and sudden partings after!

Spring is a beautiful piece of work; and not to be in the country to see it done is the not realizing what glorious masters we are, and how cheerfully, minutely, and unflaggingly the fair fingers of the season broider the world for us.

Fine taste is an aspect of genius itself, and is the faculty of delicate appreciation, which makes the best effects of art our own.

The Italians say that a beautiful woman by her smiles draws tears from our purse.

One gets, sensitive about losing mornings after getting a little used to them with living in a country. Each one of these endlessly varied daybreaks is an opera but once performed.

The taste forever refines in the study of women.

Some noble spirits mistake despair for content.