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Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded. That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
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If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
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He had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.
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By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
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Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
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This place is the Devil, or at least his principal residence, they call it the University, but any other appellation would have suited it much better, for study is the last pursuit of the society; the Master eats, drinks, and sleeps, the Fellows drink, dispute and pun, the employments of the undergraduates you will probably conjecture without my description.
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They never fail who dieIn a great cause.
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That low vice, curiosity!
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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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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 can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.
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The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
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The devil was the first democrat.
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Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place--as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash--but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.
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I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, . . . that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.
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It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.
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In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
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If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
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Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
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I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.
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But stories somehow lengthen when begun.
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Sometimes we are less unhappy in being deceived by those we love, than in being undeceived by them.
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Tis an old lesson; time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most; When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
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For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.