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• Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Moral...
• Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Moral...
• Seem'd washing his hands with invisible soap In imperceptible water.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Christening...
• He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Dream...
• O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head!
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Dream...
• Extremes meet, as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth -- Thomas Hood
• Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- A Table of Errata...
• Little Mary on the ice, Went out to have a frisk, Now wasn't little Mary nice, Her pretty *?
• There 's not a string attuned to mirth But has its chord in melancholy.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Ode to Melancholy...