In anything fit to be called by the name of reading, the process itself should be absorbing and voluptuous; we should gloat over a book, be rapt clean out of ourselves.

Wine is bottled poetry.

He is not dead, this friend; not dead, Gone some few, trifling steps ahead, And nearer to the end; So that you, too, once past the bend, Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend You fancy dead.

He who has learned to love an art or science has wisely laid up riches against the day of riches.

Keep busy at something: a busy person never has time to be unhappy.

Sightseeing is the art of disappointment.

All human beings are commingled out of good and evil.