Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
Old man! 'Tis not difficult to die.
The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
O Fame! if I ever took delight in thy praises, Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.