Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please, With too much spirit to be e'er at ease, With too much quickness ever to be taught, With too much thinking to have common thought: You purchase pain with all that joy can give, And die of nothing but a rage to live.

Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?

'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.

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.

Mankind is unamendable.

Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.

Genius involves both envy and calumny.