Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.
The search of our future being is but a needless, anxious, and haste to be knowing, sooner than we can, what, without all this solicitude, we shall know a little later.
And die of nothing but a rage to live.
This long disease, my life.
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heaven.
That character in conversation which commonly passes for agreeable is made up of civility and falsehood.