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.

Wisdom, sits alone, topmost in heaven: she is its light, its God; and in the heart of man she sits as high, though groveling minds forget her oftentimes, seeing but this world's idols.

How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.

Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.

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

O, when the heart is, full, when bitter thoughts come crowding thickly up for utterance, and the poor common words of courtesy are such a very mockery, how much the bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!

Blessed are the joymakers.