Thus, when the lamp that lighted The traveller at first goes out, He feels awhile benighted, And looks around in fear and doubt. But soon, the prospect clearing, By cloudless starlight on he treads, And thinks no lamp so cheering As that light which Heaven sheds.

'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we 're far from the lips we love, We 've but to make love to the lips we are near.

You may derive thoughts from others; your way of thinking, the mould in which your thoughts are cast, must be your own.

Books think for me. I can read anything which I call a book.

When I am not walking, I am reading. I cannot sit and think.