Symptoms are the body's mother tongue; signs are in a foreign language.
There is a shrine in the temple of age, where lie forever embalmed the memories of such as have deserved well of their country and their race.
The angels are ministering spirits; they are not governing spirits.
Now let us thank th' eternal power, convinced That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction: That oft the cloud that wraps the present hour Serves but to brighten all our future days.
Tis mean for empty praise of wit to write, As fopplings grin to show their teeth are white.
I was shot down by a fifth ball, which struck me squarely in the face, and passed out.
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