Damn The Age. I'll Write For Antiquity.

I Allow No Hot-beds In The Gardens Of Parnassus.

Separate From The Pleasure Of Your Company, I Don't Much Care If I Never See Another Mountain In My Life.

A Miser Is Sometimes A Grand Personification Of Fear. He Has A Fine Horror Of Poverty; And He Is Not Content To Keep Want From The Door, Or At Arm's Length, But He Places It, By Heaping Wealth Upon Wealth, At A Sublime Distance!

Shut Not Thy Purse-strings Always Against Painted Distress.

Go Where Glory Waits Thee! But While Fame Elates Thee, Oh, Still Remember Me!