Stirling, Like A Huge Brooch, Clasps Highlands

One Never Hugs One's Good Luck So Affectionately As When Listening To The Relation Of Some Horrible Misfortunes Which Has Overtaken Others.

We Have Two Lives; The Soul Of Man Is Like The Rolling World, One Half In Day, The Other Dipt In Night; The One Has Music And The Flying Cloud, The Other, Silence And The Wakeful Stars.

Some Books Are Drenchèd Sandson Which A Great Soul's Wealth Lies All In Heaps,like A Wrecked Argosy.

Pleasure Has No Logic; It Never Treads In Its Own Footsteps.

A Tender Sadness Drops Upon My Soul, Like The Soft Twilight Dropping On The World.