Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
I confess I love littleness almost in all things. A little convenient estate, a little cheerful house, a little company, and a little feast.
The present is an eternal now.
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
The present is all the ready money Fate can give.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!