Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart. One self-approving hour whole years outweighs Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas; And more true joy Marcellus exil'd feels Than Cæsar with a senate at his heels. In parts superior what advantage lies? Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise? 'T is but to know how little can be known; To see all others' faults, and feel our own.

True politeness consists in being easy one's self, and in making every one about one as easy as one can.

Where's the man who counsel can bestow, still pleased to teach, and yet not proud to know.

What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

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.

A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn.