True poets, like great artists, have scarcely any childhood, and no old age.

Old age is not one of the beauties of creation, but it is one of its harmonies.

The injustice of men subserves the justice of God, and often His mercy.

We reform others unconsciously when we walk uprightly.

Life grows darker as we go on, till only one pure light is left shining on it; and that is faith. Old age, like solitude and sorrow, has its revelations.

A malicious enemy is better than a clumsy friend.

There is nothing steadfast in life but our memories. We are sure of keeping intact only that which we have lost.