Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
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.
The monster London laugh at me.
Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
What a brave privilege is it to be free from all contentions, from all envying or being envied, from receiving or paying all kinds of ceremonies!