The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.

Horace appears in good humor while he censures, and therefore his censure has the more weight, as supposed to proceed from judgment and not from passion.

There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.

A land of levity is a land of guilt.

A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him; he look'd plump and fair, While rankest venom foam'd through every vein.

And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?

Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.