Our century is a brutal thinker.
Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting, The parting hour is come! And fast thy soul is fleeting To seek its starry home.
Paradise is open to all kind hearts.
What divides men is less a difference in ideas than a likeness in pretensions.
Many have lived on a pedestal who will never have a statue when dead.
Glory is a shroud that posterity often tears from the shoulders of those who wore it when living.