See how today's achievement is only tomorrow's confusion; See how possession always cheapens the thing that was precious.

He who sleeps in continual noise is wakened by silence.

The wrecks of slavery are fast growing a fungus crop of sentiment.

Her mouth is a honey-blossom, No doubt, as the poet sings; But within her lips, the petals, Lurks a cruel bee that stings.

'Time lost is time when we have not lived a full human life, time unenriched by experience, creative endeavor, enjoyment, and suffering.'

An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit.

Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsomest, old wood burn brightest, old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweethearts, are surest, and old lovers ar…