There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.
If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
No one was ever scolded out of their sins.
A noisy man is always in the right.
Lived in his saddle, loved the chase, the course, And always, ere he mounted, kiss'd his horse.
Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, attain not to the dignity of thought.