Never was flattery lost on a poet's ear; a simple race, they waste their toil for the vain tribute of a smile.

Affection can withstand very severe storms of vigor, but not a long polar frost of indifference.

We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.

Many miles away there's a shadow on the door of a cottage on the Shore of a dark Scottish lake.

Jock, when ye hae naething else to do, ye may be aye sticking in a tree; it will be growing, Jock, when ye 're sleeping.

It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the humour of each displays itself, without ceremony or restraint.

A ruin should always be protected but never repaired - thus may we witness full the lingering legacies of the past.