We wish our names eternally to live; Wild dream! which ne'er had haunted human thought, Had not our natures been eternal too.
Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
Time elaborately thrown away.
As soon as we have found the key of life, it opens the gates of death.
A dedication is a wooden leg.