That prose is a verse, and verse is a prose; convincing all, by demonstrating plain – poetic souls delight in prose insane

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?

But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.

There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.

Years steal fire from the mind as vigor from the limb; and life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

Damn description, it is always disgusting.