The pale and quiet moon Makes her calm forehead bare, And the last fragments of the storm, Like shattered rigging from a fight at sea, Silent and few, are drifting over me.
The surest plan to make a man is, think him so.
Large charity doth never soil, but only whitens soft white hands.
Moral supremacy is the only one that leaves monuments, and not ruins, behind it.
Though old the thought and oft exprest, Tis his at last who says it best.
Most religion-mongers have bated their paradises with a bit of toasted cheese. They have tempted the body with large promises of possessions in their transmortal El Dorado. Sancho Panza will not quit his chimney-corner, but under promise of imaginary islands to govern.