Reason gains all people by compelling none.
Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.
Man is the circled oak; woman the ivy.
Shun fear, it is the ague of the soul! a passion man created for himself--for sure that cramp of nature could not dwell in the warm realms of glory.
Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
Order, thou eye of action.