Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.

I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse -- borne away with every breath!

Tyranny is for the worst of treasons.

The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.

Switzerland is a curst, selfish, swinish country of brutes, placed in the most romantic region of the world.

Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.

The mellow autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. The corn is cut, the manor full of game; The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim; Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.