Welcome as the flowers in May.

Sensibility is nature's celestial spring.

The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have know a better day.

The man who is deserving the name is the one whose thoughts and exertions are for others rather than for himself.

Sordid selfishness doth contract and narrow our benevolence, and cause us, like serpents, to infold ourselves within ourselves, and to turn out our stings to the entire world besides.

Art thou a friend to Roderick?

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!