With How Much Ease Believe We What

What Passion Cannot Music Raise And Quell!

Dead Men Tell No Tales.

The Love Of Liberty With Life Is Given, And Life Itself The Inferior Gift Of Heaven.

It's A Hard World, Neighbors, If A Man's Oath Must Be His Master.

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.