A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.

Praise, more divine than prayer; prayer points our ready path to heaven; praise is already there.

Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform and mortal men lay hold on heaven.

And friend received with thumps upon the back.

Let no man trust the first false step of guilt; it hangs upon a precipice, whose steep descent in last perdition ends.

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

They most the world enjoy who least admire.