We Have In England A Particular Bashfulness

That Fine Part Of Our Construction, The Eye, Seems As Much The Receptacle And Seat Of Our Passions As The Mind Itself; And At Least It Is The Outward Portal To Introduce Them To The House Within, Or Rather The Common Thoroughfare To Let Our Affections Pass In And Out.

Nothing Is More Gratifying To The Mind Of Man Than Power Or Dominion.

Courage Is The Thing. All Goes If Courage Goes.

In My Lucia's Absence Life Hangs Upon Me, And Becomes A Burden; I Am Ten Times Undone, While Hope, And Fear, And Grief, And Rage And Love Rise Up At Once, And With Variety Of Pain Distract Me.

Allegories, When Well Chosen, Are Like So Many Tracks Of Light In A Discourse, That Make Everything About Them Clear And Beautiful.