Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
Union of hearts, not hands, does a marriage make, and sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, and lose the medium in the wild extreme.
She who means no mischief does it all.
Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.