Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!
Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
The man that makes a character, makes foes.
Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.
Ah, how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man!
Some wits, too, like oracles, deal in ambiguities, but not with equal success; for though ambiguities are the first excellence of an imposter, they are the last of a wit.