Methinks I will not die quite happy without having seen something of that Rome of which I have read so much.

The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy.

If you keep a thing seven years, you are sure to find a use for it.

Vengeance to God alone belongs; But, when I think of all my wrongs My blood is liquid flame!

One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled with noble risks, is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum, in which men steal through existence, like sluggish waters through a marsh, without either honor or observation.

Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.

Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals; yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.