When science drove the gods out of nature, they took refuge in poetry and the porticos of civic buildings.
Young men preen. Old men scheme.
Go ahead and voice your criticisms, but don't expect to be invited back.
Guilt stirs me, but only to self-pity.
My father liked to moralize, and so do I. But he was in earnest, while I am embarrassed and pretend that I am merely being witty.
The Ancient Mariner seizes the guest at the wedding feast and will not let go until he has told all his story: the prototype of the bore.