Man is an animal that diddles, and there is no animal that diddles but man.

Deep in earth my love is lying And I must weep alone.

If you run out of ideas follow the road; you'll get there

It all depends on the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber. - Daupin

That single thought is enough. The impulse increases to a wish, the wish to a desire, the desire to an uncontrollable longing, and the longing (to the deep regret and mortification of the speaker, and in defiance of all consequences,) is indulged.

Tell me truly, I implore-- Is there-- is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!

I never can hear a crowd of people singing and gesticulating, all together, at an Italian opera, without fancying myself at Athens, listening to that particular tragedy, by Sophocles, in which he introduces a full chorus of turkeys, who set about bewailing the death of Meleager.