May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.
Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.