In my youth I thought of writing a satire on mankind! but now in my age I think I should write an apology for them.
Sweet and glorious it is to die for our country.
We rarely find anyone who can say he has lived a happy life, and who, content with his life, can retire from the world like a satisfied guest.
He has hay upon his horn. [He is a mischievous person.]
Every old poem is sacred.
The mind that is cheerful in its present state, will be averse to all solicitude as to the future, and will meet the bitter occurrences of life with a placid smile.