Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

Fondly We Think We Honor Merit Then, When We But Praise Ourselves In Other Men.

Thou Wert My Guide, Philosopher, And Friend.

The People's Voice Is Odd, It Is, And It Is Not, The Voice Of God.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State.

Wise Wretch! With Pleasures Too Refined To Please, With Too Much Spirit To Be E'er At Ease, With Too Much Quickness Ever To Be Taught, With Too Much Thinking To Have Common Thought: You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give, And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.