Till then, good-night! You wish the time were now? And I. You do not blush to wish it so? You would have blush'd yourself to death To own so much a year ago. What! both these snowy hands? ah, then I'll have to say, Good-night again.

Good night! I have to say good night, To such a host of peerless things!

Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe? Shall I bid her goe and spare not? Oh no, no, no, I dare not.

If we must part forever, Give me but one kind word to think upon, And please myself with, while my heart's breaking.

When a man cuts himself absolutely adrift from custom, what an astonishingly light spar floats him! How few his wants are, after all!

What is newest to one in foreign countries is not always the people, but their surroundings, and those same little details of life and circumstance which make no impression on a man in his own land until he returns to it after a prolonged absence, and then they stand out very sharply for a while.