All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.

I am satisfied to trifle away my time, rather than let it stick by me.

The character of covetousness, is what a man generally acquires more through some niggardliness or ill grace in little and inconsiderable things, than in expenses of any consequence.

Sure of their qualities and demanding praise, more go to ruined fortunes than are raised.

They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.

What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!

Let fortune do her worst, whatever she makes us lose, so long as she never makes us lose our honesty and our independence.