Her Great Merit Is Finding Out Mine;

I Loved My Country, And I Hated Him.

Nothing So Fretful, So Despicable As A Scribbler, See What I Am, And What A Parcel Of Scoundrels I Have Brought About My Ears, And What Language I Have Been Obliged To Treat Them With To Deal With Them In Their Own Way; - All This Comes Of Authorship.

What Deep Wounds Ever Closed Without A Scar?

I Stood Among Them, But Not Of Them: In A Shroud Of Thoughts Which Were Not Their Thoughts.

Heaven Gives Its Favourites-early Death.