Circle are praised, not that abound, In largeness, but the exactly round.

The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.

Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.

Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.

The rising sun complies with our weak sight, First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light At such a distance from our eyes, as though He knew what harm his hasty beams would do.

Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.

To love is to believe, to hope, to know; 'Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!

All things but one you can restore; the heart you get returns no more.

Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

Imagination is manifest of thoughts by divine force.

We want a few mad people now. See where the sane ones have landed us!

This Divine truth flows into heaven from the Lord from His Divine love

Nativity is the enemy of prophecy.

I don't have to be glamorous all the time.

The moral is to make all one can out of life and live up to one's fingers' ends.

All is fair in love and war and Parliamentary procedure.

Those who base their lives on the belief that a loving God is acting in their behalf tend to see problems as opportunities for growth.

One of the deepest habitual patterns that we have is to feel that now is not enough.

This is AIDS. AIDS is as real as an egg.