A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.
Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
When we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow old; and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we proposed.
Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
Truth needs not flowers of speech.
How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?