He is the true enchanter, whose spell operates, not upon the senses, but upon the imagination and the heart.

Surely happiness is reflective, like the light of heaven.

Enthusiasts soon understand each other.

There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of forest trees. It argues, I think, a sweet and generous nature to have his strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. He who plants a tree looks forward to future ages, and plants for posterity. Nothing could be less selfish than this.

History is but a kind of Newgate calendar, a register of the crimes and miseries that man has inflicted on his fellow-man.

There is an emanation from the heart in genuine hospitality which cannot be described, but is immediately felt and puts the stranger at once at his ease.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.