The sickening pang of hope deferr'd.
Vacant heart, and hand, and eye, Easy live and quiet die.
Nothing is more completely the child of art than a garden.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
To the timid and hesitating everything is impossible because it seems so.
Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals; yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.