They Live Too Long Who Happiness Outlive.

What Judgment I Had Increases Rather Than Diminishes; And Thoughts, Such As They Are, Come Crowding In So Fast Upon Me, That My Only Difficulty Is To Choose Or Reject; To Run Them Into Verse Or To Give Them The Other Harmony Of Prose.

Could Swell The Soul To Rage, Or Kindle Soft Desire.

Whistling To Keep Myself From Being Afraid.

Forgiveness To The Injured Does Belong; But They Ne'er Pardon Who Have Done Wrong.

Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.