He counted them at break of day – / And when the sun set where were they?
Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, streams like the thunderstorm against the wind.
May none these marks efface! / For they appeal from tyranny to God.
The drying up a single tear has more of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
The poor dog, in life the firmest friend. The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
A `strange coincidence’, to use a phrase / By which such things are settled nowadays.
To feel for none is the true social art of the world’s stoics – men without a heart
I tell thee, be not rash; a golden bridge / Is for a flying enemy.
Nor be, what man should ever be, / The friend of Beauty in distress?
When Newton saw an apple fall, he found In that slight startle from his contemplation – ‘Tis said (for I’ll not answer above ground For any sage’s creed or calculation) – A mode of proving that the earth turned round In a most natural whirl called “”G
Such hath it been – shall be – beneath the sun the many still must labor for the one
Why did she love him? Curious fool – be still – is human love the growth of human will?
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.
Her great merit is finding out mine — there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
The drying up a single tear has more – Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore
This place is the Devil, or at least his principal residence, they call it the University, but any other appellation would have suited it much better, for study is the last pursuit of the society; the Master eats, drinks, and sleeps, the Fellows drink, dispute and pun, the employments of the undergraduates you will probably...
Why don’t they knead two virtuous souls for life / Into that moral centaur, man and wife?
There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; / A palace and a prison on each hand.
If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? – With silence and tears