If it come to prohibiting, there is aught more likely to be prohibited than truth itself.
Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
What am I pondering, you ask? So help me God, immortality.
On the tawny sands and shelves trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
A man may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so.
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.