We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.
Consult the Genius of the Place in all.
A patriot is a fool in ev'ry age.
Art still followed where Rome's eagles flew.
Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear; 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.
Such as are still observing upon others are like those who are always abroad at other men's houses, reforming everything there while their own runs to ruin.