All nature is but art unknown to thee.

Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?

The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy.

False happiness is like false money; it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.

A youth of frolic, an old age of cards.

At present we can only reason of the divine justice from what we know of justice in man. When we are in other scenes, we may have truer and nobler ideas of it; but while we are in this life, we can only speak from the volume that is laid open before us.

Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, make use of every friend and every foe.