I want to live, and die with you.
Enjoy thankfully any happy hour heaven may send you, nor think that your delights will keep till another year.
The cook cares not a bit for toil, toil, if the fowl be plump and fat
How great, my friends, is the virtue of living upon a little!
Is virtue raised by culture, or self-sown?
There are words and accents by which this grief can be assuaged, and the disease in a great measure removed.