Many love music but for music's sake, Many because her touches can awake Thoughts that repose within the breast half-dead, And rise to follow where she loves to lead. What various feelings come from days gone by! What tears from far-off sources dim the eye! Few, when light fingers with sweet voices play, And melodies swell, pause, and melt away, Mind how at every touch, at every tone, A spark of life hath glistened and hath gone.

Fame often rests at first upon something accidental, and often, too, is swept away, or for a time removed; but neither genius nor glory, is conferred at once, nor do they glimmer and fall, like drops in a grotto, at a shout.

True wit, to every man, is that which falls on another.

Greatness, as we daily see it, is unsociable.

When a cat flatters ... he is not insincere: you may safely take it for real kindness.

It is as wise to moderate our belief as our desires.

Great men always pay deference to greater.