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I have had, and may have still, a thousand friends, as they are called, in life, who are like one's partners in the waltz of this world -not much remembered when the ball is over.
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But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
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Egypt! from whose all dateless tombs arose Forgotten Pharaohs from their long repose, And shook within their pyramids to hear A new Cambyses thundering in their ear; While the dark shades of forty ages stood Like startled giants by Nile's famous flood.
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Send me no more reviews of any kind. - I will read no more of evil or good in that line. - Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years.
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There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.
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He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.
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I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day.
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The sight of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel.
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Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
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I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but as you will see, not infested with the mania.
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The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.
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I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
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Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider.
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The basis of your religion is injustice. The Son of God the pure, the immaculate, the innocent, is sacrificed for the guilty. This proves his heroism, but no more does away with man's sin than a school boy's volunteering to be flogged for another would exculpate a dunce from negligence.
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Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
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The lapse of ages changes all things - time - language - the earth - the bounds of the sea - the stars of the sky, and everything 'about, around, and underneath' man, except man himself, who has always been and always will be, an unlucky rascal. The infinite variety of lives conduct but to death, and the infinity of wishes lead but to disappointment. All the discoveries which have yet been made have multiplied little but existence.
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There 's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
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I die - but first I have possessed,And come what may, I have been blessed.
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For the sword outwears its sheath,And the soul wears out the breast,And the heart must pause to breathe,And love itself have rest.
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Always laugh when you can; it is cheap medicine. Merriment is a philosophy not well understood. It is the sunny side of existence.
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But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.
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Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast; Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so.
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Mont Blanc is the Monarch of mountains;They crowned him long ago,On a throne of rocks - in a robe of clouds –With a Diadem of Snow.
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Man is a carnivorous production, And must have meals, at least one meal a day; He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction, But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey; Although his anatomical construction Bears vegetables, in a grumbling way, Your laboring people think beyond all question, Beef, veal, and mutton better for digestion.