Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
Not always actions show the man; we find who does a kindness is not therefore kind.
Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
Teach me to feel another's woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me.
Atheists put on false courage and alacrity in the midst of their darkness and apprehensions, like children who, when they fear to go in the dark, will sing for fear.