I'll tickle his catastrophe.
Men are governed by lines of intellect - women: by curves of emotion.
A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.
Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love; Lay aside sadness and sing How love that passes is enough. Sing about the long deep sleep Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.