Elegant As Simplicity, And Warm As Ecstasy.

Those Flimsy Webs That Break As Soon As Wrought, Attain Not To The Dignity Of Thought.

The Parson Knows Enough Who Knows A Duke.

The Parable Of The Prodigal Son, The Most Beautiful Fiction That Ever Was Invented; Our Saviour's Speech To His Disciples, With Which He Closed His Earthly Ministrations, Full Of The Sublimest Dignity And Tenderest Affection, Surpass Everything That I Ever Read; And Like The Spirit By Which They Were Dictated, Fly Directly To The Heart.

How Fleet Is A Glance Of The Mind! Compared With The Speed Of Its Flight, The Tempest Itself Lags Behind, And The Swift-winged Arrows Of Light.

War's A Game, Which, Were Their Subjects Wise, Kings Would Not Play At.