How happy they are, in all seeming, How gay, or how smilingly proud, How brightly their faces are beaming, These people who make up the crowd!
He 's gone, and who knows how he may report Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?
[Rhyme is] but the invention of a barbarous age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meter;. . . Not without cause therefore some both Italian and Spanish poets of prime note have rejected rhyme,. . . as have also long since our best English tragedies, as. . . trivial and of no true musical delight; which [truly] consists only in apt numbers, fit quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings, a fault avoided by the learned ancients both in poetry and all good oratory.
In those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.
The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.
First of all, the majority of us, regardless of what we may say, are capitalists. That is, we practice it, it's what we "do," it's how we live, we are capitalists.
I regret my disbelief in God.
In the morning I get out of bed, I brush my teeth, I wash my face, I get dressed in the clothes I like best. I want to be good to myself.
Although the whole of this life were said to be nothing but a dream and the physical world nothing but a phantasm, I should call this dream or phantasm real enough, if, using reason well, we were never deceived by it.