Let none think to fly the danger for soon or late love is his own avenger.

I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.

We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.

Where there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.

Till taught by pain, men know not water's worth.

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.

I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.