Alas! the praise given to the ear Ne'er was nor ne'er can be sincere.
There is a large stock on hand; but somehow or other, nobody's experience ever suits us but our own.
Few save the poor feel for the poor.
doubts, like facts, are stubborn things.
When does the mind put forth its powers? when are the stores of memory unlocked? when does wit 'flash from fluent lips?' -- when but after a good dinner? Who will deny its influence on the affections? Half our friends are born of turbots and truffles.
A friend is never alarmed for us in the right place.
I do love violets; they tell the history of woman's love.
Delicious tears! The heart's own dew.
I have no parting sigh to give, so take my parting smile.
in came ... a baby, eloquent as infancy usually is, and like most youthful orators, more easily heard than understood.
If there be any one habit which more than another is the dry rot of all that is high and generous in youth, it is the habit of ridicule.
It is said that ridicule is the test of truth; but it is never applied except when we wish to deceive ourselves - when if we cannot exclude the light, we would fain draw the curtain before it. The sneer springs out of the wish to deny; and wretched must that state of mind be, that wishes to take refuge in doubt.
I hate the word 'ought' - it always implies something dull, cold, and commonplace. The 'ought nots' of life are its pleasantest things.
Ignorance, far more than idleness, is the mother of all the vices; and how recent has been the admission, that knowledge should be the portion of all? The destinies of the future lie in judicious education; an education that must be universal, to be beneficial.
I have a respect for family pride. If it be a prejudice, it is a prejudice in its most picturesque shape. But I hold it is connected with some of the noblest feelings in our nature.
Youth is a season that has no repose.
youth, balancing itself upon hope, is forever in extremes: its expectations are continually aroused only to be baffled, and disappointment, like a summer shower, is violent in proportion to its brevity.
Childhood, whose very happiness is love.
Hope is love's happiness, but not its life.
Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?
Suicide and antipathy to fires in a bedroom seem to be among the national characteristics. Perhaps the same moral cause may originate both.
English people ... never speak, excepting in cases of fire or murder, unless they are introduced.
There is no denying that there are 'royal roads' through existence for the upper classes; for them, at least, the highways are macadamized, swept, and watered.
To this hour, the great science and duty of politics is lowered by the petty leaven of small and personal advantage.
Oh, only those whose souls have felt this one idolatry can tell how precious is the slightest thing affection gives and hallows.
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