Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded. That all the Apostles would have done as they did.

There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.

I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.

A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

One hates an author that's all author.

Despair and Genius are too oft connected

Let joy be unconfined.