The zeal of fools offends at any time.

This long disease, my life.

But those who cannot write, and those who can, All rhyme, and scrawl, and scribble, to a man.

For when success a lover's toil attends,Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends

Old men, for the most part, are like old chronicles that give you dull but true accounts of times past, and are worth knowing only on that score.

Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue

No craving void left aching in the soul.