Truth and fiction are so aptly mixed that all seems uniform and of a piece.

Words are like leaves; some wither every year, and every year a younger race succeed.

Choose an author as you would a friend.

The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound, Shall thro' the rending tombs rebound, And wake the nations under ground.

Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express With painful care, but seeming easiness; For truth shines brightest thro' the plainest dress.

You gain your point if your industrious art can make unusual words easy.

Invention is not so much the result of labor as of judgment.