Love- what is love? A great and aching heart; Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair

A birdie with a yellow bill Hoped upon the window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: 'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-'ead?

If your morals make you dreary, depend upon it they are wrong.

To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.

You seem to me to be a pretty lucky young man; keep your eyes open to your mercies. That part of piety is eternal; and the man who forgets to be grateful has fallen asleep in life.

The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.