Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.
Where ignorance is bliss, ‘Tis folly to be wise.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight.
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, he had not the method […]
Tis folly to be wise.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
If the best man’s faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat […]
He gave to misery (all he had) a tear.
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.