He sins against this life, who slights the next.
A dedication is a wooden leg.
The course of Nature is the art of God
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
The qualities all in a bee that we meet, In an epigram never should fail; The body should always be little and sweet, And a sting should be felt in its tail.
The spirit walks of every day deceased.