“And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.”

Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.

The man to solitude accustom’d long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease,

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.

O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!

A fool must now and then be right, by chance

I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?

God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.

God made the country, and man made the town.

God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.

We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.

Remorse begets reform.

Accomplishments have taken virtue’s place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.

[My kitten’s] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.