Emotions and Feelings

Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame,

Not to admire, is all the art I know,

The learn’d is happy nature to explore,

Hope springs eternal in the human breast:

Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend,

Odious! in woollen! ’twould a saint provoke!

Die, and endow a college, or a cat.

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,

‘Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?

‘Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?

And he, whose fustian’s so sublimely bad,

The Muse but served to ease some friend, not wife,

You think this cruel? take it for a rule,

Sir, I admit your gen’ral rule

I am his Highness’ dog at Kew;

How happy is the blameless Vestal’s lot!

How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,

On all the line a sudden vengeance waits,

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming.

All that we see or seem

I was a child and she was a child,

Behold! human beings living in a underground den … Like ourselves … they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave.

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.

I have always been scared of you,