Said will be a little ahead, but done should follow at his heel.

My hearing has suffered seriously; just now I am obliged to have the assistance of an ear trumpet. Think of that, my beauty! – There ’s a state for your old Lover to be in! – No more tender whisperings! Imagine sweet confessions to be made through an ear trumpet!

Where’s the snow That fell the year that’s fled – where’s the snow?

I’ll seek a four leaved shamrock in all thy fairy dells, And if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I’ll weave my spells!

For a ballad’s a thing you expect to find lies in.

When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen.

There’s luck in odd numbers.

How many chapters have been written about love verses – and how many more might be written! – might, would, could, should, or ought to be written! – I will venture to say, will be written!

A baby was sleeping, Its mother was weeping.

For a ballad's a thing you expect to find lies in.