For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause for breath, And love itself have rest.
How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, night! for thou has chased away these horrid bodements which, amidst the throng, I could not dissipate; and with the blessing of thy benign and quiet influence now will I to my couch, although to rest is almost wronging such a night as this.
Oh! too convincing - dangerously dear - In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
[Poetry] is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
I'll publish right or wrong. Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.
With just enough of learning to misquote.
Goodnight
What men call gallantry and gods adultery Is much more common where the climate's sultry.