Life's cares are comforts; such by Heav'n design'd; He that hath none must make them, or be wretched.

'T is impious in a good man to be sad.

A death-bed's a detector of the heart.

Men should press forward, in fame's glorious chase; Nobles look backward, and so lose the race.

Angels are men of a superior kind; Angels are men in lighter habit clad.

Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.

Nothing but what astonishes is true.