My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea.

[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast; Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so.

We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.

Frienship is eros...without wings

But every fool describes, in these bright days, His wondrous journey to some foreign court, And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,-- Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport.

But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.