A Good Orator Is Pointed And Impassioned.

There Is, I Know Not How, A Certain Presage, As It Were, Of A Future Existence; And This Takes The Deepest Root, And Is Most Discoverable, In The Greatest Geniuses And Most Exalted Souls.

It Is The Soul Itself Which Sees And Hears, And Not Those Parts Which Are, As It Were, But Windows To The Soul.

No One Has Lived A Short Life Who Has Performed Its Duties With Unblemished Character.

Death Darkens His Eyes, And Unplumes His Wings, Yet The Sweetest Song Is The Last He Sings: Live So, My Love, That When Death Shall Come, Swan-like And Sweet It May Waft Thee Home.

These (literary) Studies Are The Food Of Youth, And Consolation Of Age; They Adorn Prosperity, And Are The Comfort And Refuge Of Adversity; They Are Pleasant At Home, And Are No Incumbrance Abroad; They Accompany Us At Night, In Our Travels, And In Our Rural Retreats.