On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]
A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
At ev'ry word a reputation dies.
Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
Great oaks grow from little acorns. He has a green thumb. He has green fingers. He's sowing his wild oats. Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.