There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds:
And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased
With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave;
Some chord in unison with what we hear
Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.

For thou hast given me in this beauteous face A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.

A crowd always thinks with its sympathy, never with its reason

Teetotallers lack the sympathy and generosity of men that drink.

Spare feast! a radish and an egg.