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The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
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The Christian has greatly the advantage of the unbeliever, having everything to gain and nothing to lose.
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Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.
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We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
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There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.
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I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one.
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Nothing so fretful, so despicable as a Scribbler, see what I am, and what a parcel of Scoundrels I have brought about my ears, and what language I have been obliged to treat them with to deal with them in their own way; - all this comes of Authorship.
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Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
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If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
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The reason that adulation is not displeasing is that, though untrue, it shows one to be of consequence enough, in one way or other, to induce people to lie.
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The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
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There is a tear for all who die, A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
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Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
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Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
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Retirement accords with the tone of my mind; I will not descend to a world I despise.
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You are the fools, not I - for I did dwell With a deep thought, and with a softened eye, On that Old Sexton's natural homily, In which there was Obscurity and Fame, The Glory and the Nothing of a Name.
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Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end.
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O Fame! if I ever 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.
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Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
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Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life, and if Virtue is not its own reward, I don't know any other stipend annexed to it.
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My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
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What want these outlaws conquerors should have but history's purchased page to call them great?
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Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth; whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.
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On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet.