Sometimes The Devil is a gentleman.

His fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it.

I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.

The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.

Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality; it strikes at the root of all domestic happiness, and consigns more than half of the human race to misery.

Every fanatic or enemy of virtue is not at liberty to misrepresent the greatest geniuses and most heroic defenders of all that is valuable in this mortal world.

Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?