Art, however innocent, looks like deceiving.

Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.

Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, and lose the medium in the wild extreme.

Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.

Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.

Hide not thy tears; weep boldly, and be proud to give the flowing virtue manly way; it is nature's mark to know an honest heart by.

The man with but one idea in his head is sure to exaggerate that to top-heaviness, and thus he loses his equilibrium.