|S. Austin Allibone, comp. Prose Quotations from Socrates to Macaulay. 1880.|
| Why does the evening, does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it the nightly pressure of helplessness? or is it the exalting separation from the turmoils of life, that veiling of the world in which for the soul nothing then remains but souls?is it therefore that the letters in which the loved name stands written on our spirit appear like phosphorous writing by night, on fire, while by day, in their cloudy traces, they but smoke?|
Jean Paul F. Richter.