The difference is too nice - Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.

Some old men, continually praise the time of their youth. In fact, you would almost think that there were no fools in their days, but unluckily they themselves are left as an example.

The flower's are gone when the Fruits appear to ripen.

Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes: the glorious fault of angels and of gods.

Old men, for the most part, are like old chronicles that give you dull but true accounts of times past, and are worth knowing only on that score.

For what I have publish'd, I can only hope to be pardon'd; but for what I have burned, I deserve to be prais'd.

From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.