Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.

Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.

Who then will explain the explanation?

One certainly has a soul; but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.

What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms, their dresses, their banners, and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements.

Man's conscience is the oracle of God.

The music, and the banquet, and the wine-- The garlands, the rose odors, and the flowers, The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments-- The white arms and the raven hair--the braids, And bracelets; swan-like bosoms, and the necklace, An India in itself, yet dazzling not.