Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now 's the day and now 's the hour; See the front o' battle lour.

I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing; But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling!

I want someone to laugh with me, someone to be grave with me, someone to please me and help my discrimination with his or her own remark, and at times, no doubt, to admire my acuteness and penetration.

Suspicion is a heavy armor and with its weight it impedes more than it protects.

Dare to be honest and fear no labor.

How wretched is the person who hangs on by the favors of the powerful.