Would any thing but a madman complain of uncertainty? Uncertainty and expectation are joys of life; security is an insipid thing; and the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly of the chase.

There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased, They scarcely come inclining to be pleased: And sure he must have more than mortal Skill, Who please one against his Will.

He who closes his ears to the views of others shows little confidence in the integrity of his own views.

Words are the weak support of cold indifference; love has no language to be heard.

Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.

There are times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth.

Turn pimp, flatterer, quack, lawyer, parson, be chaplain to an atheist, or stallion to an old woman, anything but a poet; for a poet is worse, more servile, timorous and fawning than any I have named.