We have progressively improved into a less spiritual species of tenderness -- but the seal is not yet fixed though the wax is preparing for the impression.
I would rather have a nod from an American, than a snuff-box from an emperor.
He who is only just is cruel. Who on earth could live were all judged justly?
There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.
Sleep hath it's own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.
Your letter of excuses has arrived. I receive the letter but do not admit the excuses except in courtesy, as when a man treads on your toes and begs your pardon -- the pardon is granted, but the joint aches, especially if there is a corn upon it.
So much alarmed that she is quite alarming, All Giggle, Blush, half Pertness, and half Pout.
O Fame! if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.
'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; A book's a book, although there's nothing in't.
The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation, And for the bass, the beast can only bellow; In fact, he had no singing education, An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.