Our century is a brutal thinker.
Flow wine, smile woman, and the universe is consoled.
Paradise is open to all kind hearts.
What divides men is less a difference in ideas than a likeness in pretensions.
Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting, The parting hour is come! And fast thy soul is fleeting To seek its starry home.
A man's reception depends upon his coat; his dismissal upon the wit he shows.