... where the Greeks had modesty, we have cant; where they had poetry, we have cant; where they had patriotism, we have cant; where they had anything that exalts, delights, or adorns humanity, we have nothing but cant, cant, cant.

Laughter is pleasant, but the exertion at my age is too much for me.

But though first love's impassioned blindness Has passed away in colder light, I still have thought of you with kindness, And shall do, till our last goodnight. The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers Will be an hundred years ago.

Marriage may often be a stormy lake, but celibacy is almost always a muddy horsepond.

He kept at true good humor's mark The social flow of pleasure's tide: He never made a brow look dark, Nor caused a tear, but when he died.

A book that furnishes no quotations, is me judice, no book, — it is a plaything.

Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.