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

A dearth of words a woman need not fear; But 'tis a task indeed to learn to hear: In that the skill of conversation lies; That shows and makes you both polite and wise.

Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.

Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.

But love, like wine, gives a tumultuous bliss, Heighten'd indeed beyond all mortal pleasures; But mingles pangs and madness in the bowl.

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.

We are not all great because we are inspired, but we feel great because we are.