Worthless is the nation that does not gladly stake its all on its honor.
No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.
Joy all creatures drink At nature's bosoms.
To be man's tender mate was woman born, and in obeying nature she best serves the purposes of heaven.
The very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.
Heaven and earth fight in vain against a dunce!