Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!

He who would do good to another must do it in minute particulars.

Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.

For everything exists and not one sigh nor smile nor tear, one hair nor particle of dust, not one can pass away.

The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.

Prudence is a rich, ugly, old maid courted by incapacity.

'Come hither, my boy, tell me what thou seest there?' 'A fool tangled in a religious snare.'