O, my luve is like a red, red rose.

The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.

Morality, thou deadly bane, Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain! Vain is his hope, whose stay an' trust is In moral mercy, truth, and justice!

Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.

Suspense is worst than disappointment.

Your lines, I maintain it, are poetry, and good poetry.... Friendship... had I been so blest as to have met with you in time, might have led me - God of love only knows where.

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.--Robert Burns