Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.

If we had not winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.

Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.

Iron till it be thoroughly heated is incapable to be wrought; so God sees good to cast some men into the furnace of affliction, and then beats them on His anvil into what frame He desires.

My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.

Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure/A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.

But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.