I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

But I had not quite fixed whether to make him [Don Juan] end in Hell-or in an unhappy marriage,-not knowing which would be the severest.

Tis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic, universal, wonderful, Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull

Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.

Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.