The dead of midnight is the noon of thought.

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; When man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; When man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!.

We neither laugh alone, nor weep alone, why then should we pray alone?

The most characteristic mark of a great mind is to choose some one important object, and pursue it for life.

Forgotten rimes, and college themes,/ Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes;/ A mass of heterogeneous matter./ A chaos dark, nor land nor water.