Hatred Is The Madness Of The Heart.

I Hate All Pain, Given Or Received; We Have Enough Within Us The Meanest Vassal As The Loftiest Monarch, Not To Add To Each Other's Natural Burden Of Mortal Misery.

Absence - That Common Cure Of Love.

He Makes A Solitude, And Calls It - Peace!

Tis Sweet To Listen As The Night Winds Creep From Leaf To Leaf.

I Have Imbibed Such A Love For Money That I Keep Some Sequins In A Drawer To Count, And Cry Over Them Once A Week.