Every Ship Is A Romantic Object, Except

As Sunbeams Stream Through Liberal Space And Nothing Jostle Or Displace, So Waved The Pine-tree Through My Thought And Fanned The Dreams It Never Brought.

Old Age Brings Along With Its Uglinesses The Comfort That You Will Soon Be Out Of It, - Which Ought To Be A Substantial Relief To Such Discontented Pendulums As We Are.

All Nobility In Its Beginnings Was Somebody's Natural Superiority.

We Know That Madness Belongs To Love,--what Power To Paint A Vile Object In Hues Of Heaven.

Every Man Is An Infinitely Repelling Orb, And Holds His Individual Being On That Condition.