THE MOST EXTENSIVE
ON THE INTERNET
Death is dreadful, but in the first springtime of youth, to be snatched forcibly from the banquet to which the individual has but just sat down is peculiarly appalling.
Dinna curse him, sir; I have heard a good man say that a curse was like a stone flung up to the heavens, and maist like to return on his head that sent it.
Do not Christians and Heathens, Jews and Gentiles, poets and philosophers, unite in allowing the starry influences?
Each age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer.
Each must drain
His share of pleasure, share of pain.
Equity judgeth with lenity, laws with extremity. In all moral cases, the reason of the law is the law.
Every hour has its end.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
For deadly fear can time outgo, and blanch at once the hair.
For, wake where'er he may, man wakes to care and coil.
From my experience, not one in twenty marries the first love; we build statues of snow and weep to see them melt.
From the white-thorn the May-flower shed
Its dewy fragrance round our head;
Not Ariel lived more merrily
Under the blossom'd bough than we.
Give me an honest laugher.
Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
Guilt, though it may attain temporal splendor, can never confer real happiness; the evil consequences of our crimes long survive their commission, and, like the ghosts of the murdered, forever haunt the steps of the malefactor; while the paths of virtue, though seldom those of worldly greatness, are always those of pleasantness and peace.
Hard toll can roughen form and face,
And want can quench the eye's bright grace.
He that follows the advice of reason has a mind that is elevated above the reach of injury; that sits above the clouds, in a calm and quiet ether, and with a brave indifferency hears the rolling thunders grumble and burst under his feet.
He that would soothe sorrow must not argue on the vanity of the most deceitful hopes.
He who indulges his sense in any excesses renders himself obnoxious to his own reason; and, to gratify the brute in him, displeases the man, and sets his two natures at variance.
Heap on more wood! the wind is chill!
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep up Christmas merry still.
Heaven know its time; the bullet has its billet.
Here is neither want of appetite nor mouths,
Pray heaven we be not scant of meat or mirth.
His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire.
His face was of that doubtful kind,
That wins the eye but not the mind.
His soul, like bark with rudder lost,
On passion's changeful tide was tost;
Nor vice nor virtue had the power
Beyond th' impression of the hour;
And O, when passion rules, how rare
The hours that fall to virtue's share!
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