Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
God made the country, and man made the town.
God forbid that Judges upon their oath should make resolutions to enlarge jurisdiction.
God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.