Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wast >>
What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world. >>
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform. >>
The sorrows and disasters of Europe always brought fortune to America. >>
Sorrow has produced more melody than mirth. >>
We should feel sorrow, but not sink under its oppression. >>
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.