Memory is a gulf that a word can move to its lowest depths.

Thought is the work of the intellect, reverie is its self-indulgence. To substitute day-dreaming for thought is to confuse a poison with a source of nourishment.

When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is an unspeakable dawn in happy old age.

The great acts of love are done by those who are habitually performing small acts of kindness.

People do not read stupidities with impunity.

He did not study God; he was dazzled by him.

Rhyme, that enslaved queen, that supreme charm of our poetry, that creator of our meter.