Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances; departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may b...
The man Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys:Power, like a desolating pestilence,Pollutes whate'er it touches, and obedience,Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,Makes slaves of men, and, of...
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
We look before and after, And pine for what is not Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
How many a rustic Milton has passed by Stifling the speechless longings of his heart In unremitting drudgery and care! How many a vulgar Cato has compelled His energies no longer tameless then To...
First our pleasures die - and then Our hopes and then our fears - and when These are dead the debt is due Dust claims dust - and we die too.
Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may be...
Jealousy's eyes are green.
Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.
See the mountains kiss high HeavenAnd the waves clasp one another;No sister-flower would be forgivenIf it disdained its brother;And the sunlight clasps the earth,And the moonbeams kiss the sea -What i...
How many a rustic Milton has passed by Stifling the speechless longings of his heart In unremitting drudgery and care! How many a vulgar Cato has compelled His energies no longer tameless then To m...
That orbed maiden with white fire laden Whom mortals call the moon.
God is represented as infinite, eternal, incomprehensible; he is contained under every predicate in non that the logic of ignorance could fabricate.
I consider poetry very subordinate to moral and political science.
I have drunken deep of joy And I will taste no other wine tonight.
The being called God...bears every mark of a veil woven by philosophical conceit, to hide the ignorance of philosophers even from themselves. They borrow the threads of its texture from the anthropomo...
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.
Concerning God, freewill and destiny: Of all that earth has been or yet may be, all that vain men imagine or believe, or hope can paint or suffering may achieve, we descanted.