Related:

• One more unfortunate Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- The Bridge of Sigh...
• Even God's providence Seeming estrang'd. -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- The Bridge of Sigh
• Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Moral...
• Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- The Bridge of Sigh...
• For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Morning Meditatio...
• He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Dream...
• And her face so fair Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Don Juan, Canto iv, Stanza 29...
• Marge: I can't believe I put my own pleasure ahead of my home and family.
  That is so like me. Homer: Oh, Marge, don't blame yourself....
• She's so ugly that not even the tide would take her out.