Poetry is the exquisite expression of exquisite impressions.

No labor is hopeless.

That which we know is but little; that which we have a presentiment of is immense; it is in this direction that the poet outruns the learned man.

Conscientious men are, almost everywhere, less encouraged than tolerated.

Interest, ambition, fortune, time, temper, love, all kill friendship.

What is slander? A verdict of "guilty" pronounced in the absence of the accused, with closed doors, without defence or appeal, by an interested and prejudiced judge.

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.