Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.

Every day a little life, a blank to be inscribed with gentle thoughts.

When with care we have raised an imaginary treasure of happiness, we find at last that the materials of the structure are frail and perishing, and the foundation itself is laid in the sand.

Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it: He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it.

It doesn't much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find next morning that it was someone else.

Paris strikes the vulgar part of us infinitely the most, but to a thinking mind London is incomparably the most delightful subject for contemplation.

Think nothing done while aught remains to do.