Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
Eternity forbids thee to forget.
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but as you will see, not infested with the mania.
Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din; Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God.