There Are No Tricks In Plain And

Extreme Fear Can Neither Fight Nor Fly.

Oh! That You Could Turn Your Eyes Towards The Napes Of Your Necks, And Make But An Interior Survey Of Your Good Selves.

Taffeta Phrases, Silken Terms Precise, Three-piled Hyperboles, Spruce Affection, Figures Pedantical--these Summer Flies Have Blown Me Full Of Maggot Ostentation.

I Have A Bone To Pick With Fate

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.