Poetry is evidently a contagious complaint.

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

The natural effect of sorrow over the dead is to refine and elevate the mind.

He who wins a thousand common hearts is entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero.

There is a majestic grandeur in tranquillity.

There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of forest trees.

After all, it is the divinity within that makes the divinity without; and I have been more fascinated by a woman of talent and intelligence, though deficient in personal charms, than I have been by the most regular beauty.