Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
Build yourself a book-nest to forget the world without.
I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.