Whenever I meet with anything agreeable in this world it surprises me so much - and pleases me so much (when my passions are not interested in one way or the other) that I go on wondering for a week to come.

I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.

If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.

Think not I am what I appear.

Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.

Heaven gives its favourites-early death.

Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.