The Common Damn'd Shun Their Society.

Throughout The Whole Vegetable, Sensible, And Rational World, Whatever Makes Progress Towards Maturity, As Soon As It Has Passed That Point, Begins To Verge Towards Decay.

How Blunt Are All The Arrows Of Thy Quiver In Comparison With Those Of Guilt.

Whistling Aloud To Bear His Courage Up.

The Grave, Dread Thing! Men Shiver When Thou'rt Named: Nature Appalled, Shakes Off Her Wonted Firmness.

Friendship! Mysterious Cement Of The Soul, Sweet'ner Of Life, And Solder Of Society.