But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew, upon >>
We have progressively improved into a less spiritual species of tender >>
Oh Time! the beautifier of the dead, adorer of the ruin, comforter and >>
The real secret of happiness is not what you have or what you receive; >>
Nature does not give to those who will not spend... >>
There is no delight in owning anything unshared. >>
I do detest everything which is not perfectly mutual.