“A glass of good wine is a gracious creature, and reconciles poor mortality to itself and that is what few things can do.”

Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.

Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life.

Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.

Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.

Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven.

From my experience, not one in twenty marries the first love; we build statues of snow and weep to see them melt.

A sinful heart makes feeble hand.

Fortune may raise up or abuse the ordinary mortal, but the sage and the soldier should have minds beyond her control.

He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit.

November’s sky is chill and drear, November’s leaf is red and sear.

There never will exist anything permanently noble and excellent in the character which is a stranger to resolute self-denial.

War is the only game in which both sides lose.

Welcome as the flowers in May.

Tears are the softening showers which cause the seed of heaven to spring up in the human heart.

Cats are a very mysterious kind of folk. There is always more passing in their minds than we are aware of.

Treason seldom dwells with courage.