There is nothing on earth divine except humanity.

There is a gravity which is not austere nor captious, which belongs not to melancholy nor dwells in contraction of heart: but arises from tenderness and hangs upon reflection.

Falsehood is for a season.

When a woman hath ceased to be quite the same to us, it matters little how different she becomes.

Wherever there is excessive wealth, there is also in the train of it excessive poverty.

God scatters beauty as he scatters flowers O'er the wide earth, and tells us all are ours. A hundred lights in every temple burn, And at each shrine I bend my knee in turn.

The present, like a note in music, is nothing but as it appertains to what is past and what is to come.