Sorrow itself is not so hard to bear As the thought of sorrow coming. Airy ghosts, That work no harm, do terrify us more Than men in steel with bloody purposes. Death is not dreadful; 'tis the dread of death— We die whene'er we think of it!

Between the reputation of the author living and the reputation of the same author dead there is ever a wide discrepancy.

O Liberty...! is it well To leave the gates unguarded?

The ocean moans over dead men's bones.

The ring of a false coin is not more recognizable than that of a rhyme setting forth a false sorrow.

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.

Gracious to all, to none subservient, Without offense he spoke the word he meant