Of joys departed, not to return, how painful the remembrance
Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul, Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society.
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul! Sweetener of life! and solder of society!
Action, so to speak, is the genius of nature.
The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
The Grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou 'rt named: Nature, appall'd, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Affectation is certain deformity; by forming themselves on fantastic models, the young begin with being ridiculous, and often end in being vicious.
When it draws near to witching time of night.
The cup goes round: And who so artful as to put it by! 'T is long since Death had the majority.
The common damn'd shun their society.
But if there be an hereafter, And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man, Then must it be an awful thing to die; More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Throughout the whole vegetable, sensible, and rational world, whatever makes progress towards maturity, as soon as it has passed that point, begins to verge towards decay.
How blunt are all the arrows of thy quiver in comparison with those of guilt.