Men may scoff, and men may pray, But they pay Every pleasure with a pain.

Shakespeare and Rembrandt have in common the faculty of quickening speculation and compelling the minds of men to combat and discussion.

To be a good Briton, a man must trade profitably, marry respectably, live cleanly, avoid excess, revere the established order, and wear his heart in his breeches pocket or anywhere but on his sleeve.

Under the bludgeonings of chance / My head is bloody, but unbowed.

I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.

The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine and are changed. In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun Closing his benediction, Sinks, and the darkening air Thrills with the sense of the triumphing night,-- Night with train of stars And her great gift of sleep.