He May Live In My Memory As

The Distance Is Nothing When One Has A Motive.

She Thought It Was The Misfortune Of Poetry, To Be Seldom Safely Enjoyed By Those Who Enjoyed It Completely; And That The Strong Feelings Which Alone Could Estimate It Truly, Were The Very Feelings Which Ought To Taste It But Sparingly.

A Man . . . Must Have A Very Good Opinion Of Himself When He Asks People To Leave Their Own Fireside, And Encounter Such A Day As This, For The Sake Of Coming To See Him. He Must Think Himself A Most Agreeable Fellow.

An Interval Of Meditation, Serious And Grateful, Was The Best Corrective Of Everything Dangerous.

One Half Of The World Cannot Understand The Pleasures Of The Other.