Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.
She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.
There are times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth.
I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections.
Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast...