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.

Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.

To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.

We may see the small value God has for riches, by the people he gives them to.

Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel.

To observations which ourselves we make, we grow more partial for th' observer's sake.

The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.