Then stirs the feeling infinite…– Lord Byron
Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.
Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.
Tis pleasant, sure, to see one’s name in print. A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in ‘t.
What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.
Cervantes smiled Spain’s chivalry away; A single laugh demolished the right arm Of his country.
Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, by Allah given to lift from earth our low
It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.
A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.
I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves.
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