When it is moving on luxurious wings, The soul is lost in pleasant smotherings.
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
I equally dislike the favor of the public with the love of a woman - they are both a cloying treacle to the wings of independence.
Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence.