If a farmer fills his barn with grain, he gets mice. If he leaves it empty, he gets actors.

O Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood; Land of the mountain and the flood!

Every hour has its end.

What an ornament and safeguard is humor! Far better than wit for a poet and writer. It is a genius itself, and so defends from the insanities.

Honour is a homicide and a bloodspiller, that gangs about making frays in the street; but Credit is a decent honest man, that sits at hame and makes the pat play.

Adversity is, to me at least, a tonic and a bracer.

It was woman that taught me cruelty, and on woman therefore I have exercised it.