Poetry Is The Art Of Uniting Pleasure

There Are, Indeed, Few Kinds Of Composition From Which An Author, However Learned Or Ingenious, Can Hope A Long Continuance Of Fame.

Books Are Faithful Repositories, Which May Be Awhile Neglected Or Forgotten; But When They Are Opened Again, Will Again Impart Their Instruction: Memory, Once Interrupted, Is Not To Be Recalled. Written Learning Is A Fixed Luminary, Which, After The Cloud That Had Hidden It Has Passed Away, Is Again Bright In Its Proper Station. Tradition Is But A Meteor, Which, If Once It Falls, Cannot Be Rekindled.

The Limbs Will Quiver And Move After The Soul Is Gone.

This Merriment Of Parsons Is Mighty Offensive.

No Man Will Be Found In Whose Mind Airy Notions Do Not Sometimes Tyrannize, And Force Him To Hope Or Fear Beyond The Limits Of Sober Probability.