To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the city; to be a philosopher, from the world; or rather, a retreat from the world, as it is man's, into the world, as it is God's.

The monster London laugh at me.

Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.

s a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.

The present is all the ready money Fate can give.

Life is an incurable disease.

Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.