A moment's thinking is an hour in words.

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions; Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.

No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.

O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm further off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

Fuss is the froth of business.

Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!