We might have been - these are but common words, and yet they make the sum of life's bewailing.
There is a large stock on hand; but somehow or other, nobody's experience ever suits us but our own.
Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?
I think hearts are very much like glasses. If they do not break with the first ring, they usually last a considerable time.
Whatever people in general do not understand, they are always prepared to dislike; the incomprehensible is always the obnoxious.
Enthusiasm is the divine particle in our composition: with it we are great, generous, and true; without it, we are little, false, and mean.