Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.
Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.
When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.