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.
There is a southern proverb - fine words butter no parsnips.
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of Lochinvar.
Treason seldom dwells with courage.
We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the humour of each displays itself, without ceremony or restraint.