Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, and yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
Cervantes smiled Spain’s chivalry away; a single laugh demolish’d the right arm of his own country.
Between two worlds life hovers like a star, ‘twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge.
And Coleridge, too, has lately taken wing, but like a hawk encumber’d with his hood, explaining metaphysics to the nation I wish he would explain his Explanation.
All who joy would win must share it, happiness was born a twin.
All tragedies are finished by a death, all comedies are ended by a marriage.
Adversity is the first path to truth.
A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; an hour may lay it in the dust.
‘T is sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.