Familiar acts are beautiful through love.

What do you think? Young women of rank eat - you will never guess what - garlick!

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

Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be 'the expression of the imagination': and poetry is connate with the origin of man.

As long as skies are blue, and fields are green Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow, Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow

The practice of utter sincerity towards other men would avail to no good end, if they were incapable of practising it towards their own minds. In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.

For this is the most civil sort of lie That can be given to a man's face. I now Say what I think.