Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting, The parting hour is come! And fast thy soul is fleeting To seek its starry home.
Flow wine, smile woman, and the universe is consoled.
Our century is a brutal thinker.
Many have lived on a pedestal who will never have a statue when dead.
What divides men is less a difference in ideas than a likeness in pretensions.
Our friends, the enemy.