Know ye not who would be free themselves must strike the blow? by their right arms the conquest must be wrought?

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.

I know that two and two make four - and should be glad to prove it too if I could - though I must say if by any sort of process I could convert 2 and 2 into five it would give me much greater pleasure.

A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.

A legal broom's a moral chimney-sweeper, And that's the reason he himself's so dirty

But 'why then publish?' There are no rewards Of fame or profit when the world grows weary. I ask in turn why do you play at cards? Why drink? Why read? To make some hour less dreary. It occupies me to turn back regards On what I've seen or pondered, sad or cheery, And what I write I cast upon the stream To swim or sink. I have had at least my dream.

A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.