Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

Wit is the lowest form of humor.

To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.

Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare; And beauty draws us with a single hair.

There is nothing that is meritorious but virtue and friendship.

Drink is the feast of reason and the flow of soul.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.