Every sense hath been o'erstrung, and each frail fibre of the brain sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide
I know that two and two make four -- and should be glad to prove it too if I could -- though I must say if by any sort of process I could convert 2 and 2 into five it would give me much greater pleasure.
The power of thought, the magic of the mind.
Though women are angels, yet wedlock's the devil
Though they did not kiss, / Yet still between his Darkness and his Brightness / There passed a mutual glance of great politeness.
We have progressively improved into a less spiritual species of tenderness -- but the seal is not yet fixed though the wax is preparing for the impression.
Our thoughts take the wildest flight: Even at the moment when they should arrange themselves in thoughtful order.
Tis melancholy, and a fearful sign Of human frailty, folly, also crime, That love and marriage rarely can combine, Although they both are born in the same clime; Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine - A sad, sour, sober beverage - by time Is s
Nay more, though all my rival rhymesters frown, / I too can hunt a poetaster down.
For Freedom's battle once begun, / Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son, / Though baffled oft is ever won.
It is a hard although a common case To find our children running restive- they In whom our brightest days we would retrace, Our little selves reform'd in finer clay, Just as old age is creeping on apace, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, Th
I stood / Among them, but not of them; in a shroud / Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.