All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers; hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.

Consult the genius of the place, that paints as you plant, and as you work.

Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.

So perish all who do the like again.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.

Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes.

You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.