Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.

Wherever there is a grain of loyalty there is a glimpse of freedom.

Life is the lust of a lamp for the light that is dark till the dawn of the day that we die.

Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.

The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog; not though in that stage of development he should puff and blow himself till he bursts with windy adulation at the heels of the laureled ox.

When fate has allowed to any man more than one great gift, accident or necessity seems usually to contrive that one shall encumber and impede the other.

Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.