A brier rose whose buds yield fragrant harvest for the honey bee.

Few, save the poor, feel for the poor.

There is a large stock on hand; but somehow or other, nobody’s experience ever suits us but our own.

We might have been – these are but common words, and yet they make the sum of life’s bewailing.

Society is like a large piece of frozen water; and skating well is the great art o social life.

How disappointment tracks the steps of hope.

I think hearts are very much like glasses. If they do not break with the first ring, they usually last a considerable time.

Enthusiasm is the divine particle in our composition: with it we are great, generous, and true; without it, we are little, false, and mean.

An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence.

No thoroughly occupied man was ever yet very miserable.

A brier rose whose buds yield fragrant harvest for the honey bee.

Whatever people in general do not understand, they are always prepared to dislike; the incomprehensible is always the obnoxious.

Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o’er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

All sweeping assertions are erroneous.

Were it not better to forget than to remember and regret?

We need to suffer, that we may learn to pity.

Delicious tears! The heart’s own dew.