I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.