Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense weigh thy opinion against Providence.
Whatever is, is right.
Let sinful bachelors their woes deplore; full well they merit all they feel, and more: unaw by precepts, human or divine, like birds and beasts, promiscuously they join.
All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
This long disease, my life.
Great oaks grow from little acorns. He has a green thumb. He has green fingers. He's sowing his wild oats. Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.