If one were given a single window from which to look upon the changing Eastern world, it should face, I think, the road.
... there are few things that can reconcile us fully to our parting with a world of which the longest life can see so little and whose beauties have so extraordinary a variety.
The world has become too full of many things, an over furnished room.
To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the most pleasant sensations in the world. You are surrounded by adventure.
Love, like broken porcelain, should be wept over and buried, for nothing but a miracle will resuscitate it: but who in this world has not for some wild moments thought to recall the irrecoverable with words?