The lapse of ages changes all things - time, language, the earth, the bounds of the sea, the stars of the sky, and every thing "about around and underneath" man, except man himself.
Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.
Absence - that common cure of love.
For truth is always strange, stranger than fiction.
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god.