What ardently we wish, we soon believe.
'T is impious in a good man to be sad.
The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.
Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.
Mine is the night, with all her stars.
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise; The fool or knave that wears a title lies.