The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

War, war is still the cry,-"war even to the knife!"

I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded. That all the Apostles would have done as they did.

I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me: and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum of human cities torture.

And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.