The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.

O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.

He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one; All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.

Friendship's the wine of life: but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure.

As soon as we have found the key of life, it opens the gates of death.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, how complicate, how wonderful is man! Distinguished link in being's endless chain! Midway from nothing to the Deity! Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! A frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! Insect infinite! A worm! A God!

Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt.