Come One, Come All! This Rock Shall

Love, To Her Ear, Was But A Name, Combin'd With Vanity And Shame; Her Hopes, Her Fears, Her Joys, Were All Bounded Within The Cloister Wall.

Greatness Of Any Kind Has No Greater Foe Than A Habit Of Drinking.

Look Not Thou On Beauty's Charming; Sit Thou Still When Kings Are Arming; Taste Not When The Wine-cup Glistens; Speak Not When The People Listens

Is Death The Last Sleep? No, It Is The Last And Final Awakening.

A Good Deal Of Philanthropy Arises In General From Mere Vanity And Love Of Distinction Gilded Over To Others And To Themselves With Some Show Of Benevolent Sentiment.