| |
| Nor be, what man should ever be, / The friend of Beauty in distress? | | Uncategorized | |
| |
| Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce. | | Uncategorized | |
| Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end | | Uncategorized | |
| Nothing so fretful, so despicable as a Scribbler, see what I am, and what a parcel of Scoundrels I have brought about my ears, and what language I have been obliged to treat them with to deal with them in their own way; / all this comes of Authorship. | | Uncategorized | |
| Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure; men love in haste but they detest at leisure | | Hate | |
| Now what I love in women is, they won't or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it so well, the very truth seems falsehood to it | | Uncategorized | |
| O Fame! if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her. | | Fame | |
| O gold! I still prefer thee unto paper which makes bank credit like a bank of vapor | | Uncategorized | |
| O Man! Thou feeble tenant of an hour, Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power; Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust! Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy word deceit! By n | | Uncategorized | |
| Of all the barbarous middle ages, that which is most barbarous is the middle age of man! it is - I really scarce know what; but when we hover between fool and sage, and don't know justly what we would be at - a period something like a printed page, b | | Men | |
| Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast, Is that portentous phrase, 'I told you so | | Uncategorized | |
| Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, / And fevers into false creation. | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh Time! the beautifier of the dead, adorer of the ruin, comforter and only healer when the heart hath bled... Time, the avenger! | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom, / On thee shall press no ponderous tomb. | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh! that the Desert were my dwelling-place,/ With one fair Spirit for my minister, / That I might all forget the human race, / And, hating no one, love but only her! | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh! there is an organ playing in the street - a waltz too! I must leave off to listen. | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh! too convincing -- dangerously dear -- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear! | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh! `darkly, deeply, beautifully blue', / As someone somewhere sings about the sky. | | Uncategorized | |
| Oh, nature's noblest gift, my grey goose quill, Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will, Torn from the parent bird to form a pen, That mighty instrument of little men | | Gifts; Nature | |
