A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.

To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.

The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue.

Alas! if my best Friend, who laid down His life for me, were to remember all the instances in which I have neglected Him, and to plead them against me in judgment, where should I hide my guilty head in the day of recompense? I will pray, therefore, for blessings on my friends, even though they cease to be so, and upon my enemies, though they continue such.

Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.

[My kitten] is dressed in a tortoise-shell suit, and I know you will delight in her.