Here it is about gentlemen of fortune. They lives rough, and they risk swinging, but they eat and drink like fighting-cocks, and when a cruise is done, why, it's hundreds of pounds instead of hundreds of farthings in their pockets.

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

Wherever we are, it is but a stage on the way to somewhere else, and whatever we do, however well we do it, it is only a preparation to do something else that shall be different.

The price we have to pay for money is sometimes liberty.

By the time a man gets well into his seventies his continued existence is a mere miracle.

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.

Like a bird singing in the rain, let grateful memories survive in time of sorrow.