Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.
History – the devil’s scripture.
I’ve seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.
I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust.
No ear can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of the inward hell!
The devil was the first democrat.
Oh, nature’s noblest gift, my grey goose quill, Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will, Torn from the parent bird to form a pen, That mighty instrument of little men.
Pleasure’s a sin, and sometimes sin’s a pleasure.
Switzerland is a curst, selfish, swinish country of brutes, placed in the most romantic region of the world.
I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
A sort of hostile transaction, very necessary to keep the world going, but by no means a sinecure to the parties concerned.
In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-’t is gone, and all is gray.
There is no traitor like him whose domestic treason plants the poniard within the breast that trusted to his truth.
Had sigh’d to many, though he loved but one.
Liberty – eternal spirit of the chainless mind.
O Fame! if I ever took delight in thy praises, Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.