Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter; therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
Great offices will have great talents.