"My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest pleasure when free."

"What does it avail that I am in the midst of a garden, if the flowers bloom not for me?"

"My imagination is dead, my genius lost, my energies sleep."

"We are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, if one wiser, kinder, better than ourselves, do not take us in hand."

"My heart was heavy, and my spirits sunk."