Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.

I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, . . . that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.

Friendship is Love without his wings!

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.

And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!

Despair and Genius are too oft connected

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; They crown'd him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.