An aged man is but a paltry thing a tattered coat upon a stick unless soul clap its hands and sing and louder sing for every tatter in its mortal dress.
There are no strangers here, only friends you haven't yet met.
Designs in connection with postage stamps and coinage may be described, I think, as the silent ambassadors on national taste.
I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above, those that I fight I do not hate, those that I guard I do not love.
This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.
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Someday you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.