Genius creates, and taste preserves.

There goes a saying, and 'twas shrewdly said, ''Old fish at table, but young flesh in bed.

Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find two of a face as soon as of a mind.

Monuments, like men, submit to fate.

How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot A heap of dust alone remains of thee 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!

Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.

No craving void left aching in the soul.