The only time you run out of chances is when you stop taking them

'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.

Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach.

The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, and wretches hang that jurymen may dine.

A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.

I believe no one qualification is so likely to make a good writer, as the power of rejecting his own thoughts.

Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.