Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them! - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Science is a first-rate piece of furniture for a man's upper chamber, if he has common sense on the ground-floor.

But to radiate the heat of the affections into a clod, which absorbs all that is poured into it, but never warms beneath the sunshine of smiles or the pressure of hand or lip,—this is the great martyrdom of sensitive beings,—most of all in that perpetual auto da fé where young womanhood is the sacrifice.

Without wearing any mask we are conscious of, we have a special face for each friend