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.

Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.

The laughers are a majority.

Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.

For when success a lover's toil attends,Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends

When two people compliment each other with the choice of anything, each of them generally gets that which he likes least.

Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n.