It is a hard and nice subject for a man to speak of himself: it grates his own heart to say anything of disparagement, and the reader's ear to hear anything of praise from him.
His time's forever, everywhere his place.
Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!