Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth; whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.

Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.

Poetry should only occupy the idle.

Marriage, from love, like vinegar from wine-- A sad, sour sober beverage--by time Is sharpened from its high celestial flavor Down to a very homely household savor.

Armenian is the language to speak with God.

Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.