Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not

False Happiness Is Like False Money; It Passes For A Time As Well As The True, And Serves Some Ordinary Occasions; But When It Is Brought To The Touch, We Find The Lightness And Alloy, And Feel The Loss.

Of All Affliction Taught A Lover Yet, 'tis True The Hardest Science To Forget.

Curse On All Laws But Those Which Love Has Made.

In Vain Sedate Reflections We Would Make When Half Our Knowledge We Must Snatch, Not Take.

A Work Of Art That Contains Theories Is Like An Object On Which The Price Tag Has Been Left.