The tie which links mother and child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to be never violated.

Too young for woe, though not for tears.

There was one species of despotism under which he had long groaned, and that was petticoat government.

He who thinks much says but little in proportion to his thoughts. He selects that language which will convey his ideas in the most explicit and direct manner. He tries to compress as much thought as possible into a few words. On the contrary, the man who talks everlastingly and promiscuously, who seems to have an exhaustless magazine of sound, crowds so many words into his thoughts that he always obscures, and very frequently conceals them.

Small minds are subdued by misfortunes, greater minds overcome them.

There is a majestic grandeur in tranquillity.

Sometimes he spent hours together in the great libraries of Paris, those catacombs of departed authors, rummaging among their hoards of dusty and obsolete works in quest of food for his unhealthy appetite. He was, in a manner, a literary ghoul, feeding in the charnel-house of decayed literature.