Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert thou not born in my father's dwelling?

New Year's Day is every man's birthday.

Not if I know myself at all.

Oh, ever thus, from childhood's hour, I 've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree or flower But 't was the first to fade away. I never nurs'd a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well And love me, it was sure to die.

Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are! From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins, That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war, Be wasted for tyrants, or stagnate in chains.

Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever puts one down without the feeling of disappointment.

The world meets nobody half way.