The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.

Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,-health, peace, and competence.

chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.

All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye that habitually compares everything to something better. But by changing that habit to comparing everything to something worse, even making it a game, that person can find gratitude, relief and happiness where-ever they go and whatever they experience, guaranteed!

Oh, blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by heaven.