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.

Literature is a great staff, but a very sorry crutch.

Fortune may raise up or abuse the ordinary mortal, but the sage and the soldier should have minds beyond her control.

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.

It is wonderful what strength of purpose and boldness and energy of will are roused by the assurance that we are doing our duty.

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.

Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.