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— Richard Brinsley Sheridan"Soft pity never leaves the gentle breast where love has been received a welcome guest."
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O Liberty, white Goddess! is it well to leave the gates unguarded? On thy breast fold Sorrow's children, soothe the hurts of Fate, lift the down-trodden, but with hand of steel stay those who to thy sacred portals come to waste the gifts of Freedom.
— Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die. The sun insists on gladness; but at night, When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.
— Philip James Bailey
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