There is no instinct like that of the heart.

In secret we met - In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears

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

Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.

It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts - you have no idea of the pain it gives one.

Here lies interred in the eternity of the past, from whence there is no resurrection for the days - whatever there may be for the dust - the thirty-third year of an ill-spent life, which, after a lingering disease of many months sank into a lethargy, and expired, January 22d, 1821, A.D. leaving a successor inconsolable for the very loss which occasioned its existence.

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister