I'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father.

An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write; but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.

Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, and robes the mountain in its azure hue.

What millions died - that Caesar might be great!

Truth ever lovely - since the world began, The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man.