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Tyranny is for the worst of treasons.
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And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
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Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main – spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.
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Keep thy smooth words and juggling homilies for those who know thee not.
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My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea.
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But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much, as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.
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And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.
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He who surpasses or subdues mankind, must look down on the hate of those below.
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It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims; I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
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Damn description, it is always disgusting.
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within; and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.
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I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust.
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I cannot conceive why people will always mix up my own character and opinions with those of the imaginary beings which, as a poet, I have the right and liberty to draw.
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For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
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Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were.
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They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.
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Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.
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By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
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Sweet is revenge-especially to women.
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I love not man the less, but Nature more.
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If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
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Good work and joyous play go hand in hand. When play stops, old age begins. Play keeps you from taking life too seriously.