I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.

Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.

If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.

There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more.

There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart.