Beauty Without Expression Is Boring.

Thy Dangerous Glances Make Women Of Men; New-born, We Are Melting Into Nature Again.

It Is Better To Be A Thorn In The Side Of A Friend Than An Echo.

O, When I Am Safe In My Sylvan Home, I Mock At The Pride Of Greece And Rome; And When I Am Stretch'd Beneath The Pines When The Evening Star So Holy Shines, I Laugh At The Lore And Pride Of Man, At The Sophist's Schools, And The Learned Clan; For What Are They All In Their High Conceit, When Man In The Bush With God May Meet?

It Really Is Considered One Of The Blessings Of Previous Mates Which You Could Manage Being Silly With Them.

Thought Is The Property Of Him Who Can Entertain It, And Of Him Who Can Adequately Place It.