A brier rose whose buds yield fragrant harvest for the honey bee. |
Ah tell me not that memory / Sheds gladness o'er the past; / What is recalled by faded flowers / Save that they did not last? |
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. |
An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence. |
As beautiful as woman's blush, - / As evanescent too. |
Delicious tears! The heart's own dew. |
Enthusiasm is the divine particle in our composition: with it we are great, generous, and true; without it, we are little, false, and mean. |
Few, save the poor, feel for the poor |
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. |
Love is a pearl of purest hue, / But stormy waves are round it; / And dearly may a woman rue, / The hour that she found it. |
No thoroughly occupied man was ever yet very miserable. |
Society is like a large piece of frozen water; and skating well is the great art o social life. |
There is a large stock on hand; but somehow or other, nobody's experience ever suits us but our own. |