Old men, for the most part, are like old chronicles that give you dull but true accounts of times past, and are worth knowing only on that score.

Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.

Where beams of imagination play, the memory's soft figures melt away...

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!