The Churchyard abounds with images which find a mirror in every mind, and with sentiments to which every bosom returns an echo.

He delighted to tread upon the brink of meaning.

His [David Garrick's] death has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure.

Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison.

There is a boundary to men's passions when they act from feeling; none when they are under the influence of imagination.

You may remember that on Earth--though of course we never confessed it--the death of anyone we knew, even those we liked best, was always mingled with a certai…

You have never, I think, known real Grief-panic, melancholia, madness, night-sweats, we've all known for most of our lives-you and me particularly. I'm not sur…