The beggarly last doit.
It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten; that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound; that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st
No one was ever scolded out of their sins.
God made the country, and man made the town.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.