The countless gold of a merry heart, The rubies and pearls of a loving eye, The indolent never can bring to the mart, Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury.

The soul of sweet delight, can never be defiled.

Never seek to tell thy love; Love that never told can be. For the gentle wind does move silently.. invisibly.

As a man is, so he sees.

Since the French Revolution Englishmen are all intermeasurable one by another, certainly a happy state of agreement to which I forone do not agree.

The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever.

You smile with pomp and rigor, you talk of benevolence and virtue; I act with benevolence and virtue and get murdered time after time.