Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.

Blest paper-credit! last and best supply! That lends corruption lighter wings to fly!

The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!

Nothing can be more shocking and horrid than one of our kitchens sprinkled with blood, and abounding with the cries of expiring victims or with the limbs of dead animals scattered or hung up here and there.

They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.

And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.