Only Music Has The Ability

Monuments, Like Men, Submit To Fate.

Tis All In Vain To Keep A Constant Pother About One Vice And Fall Into Another.

Heaven Breathes Thro' Ev'ry Member Of The Whole One Common Blessing, As One Common Soul.

Did Some More Sober Critics Come Abroad? If Wrong, I Smil'd; If Right, I Kiss'd The Rod.

Good God! How Often Are We To Die Before We Go Quite Off This Stage? In Every Friend We Lose A Part Of Ourselves, And The Best Part.