...crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.
Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven.
Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.
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 lover's pleasure, like that of the hunter, is in the chase, and the brightest beauty loses half its merit, as the flower its perfume, when the willing hand can reach it too easily. There must be doubt; there must be difficulty and danger.