Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.

There is a proud modesty in merit.

None are so busy as the fool and the knave.

What passion cannot music raise and quell!

Words are but pictures of our thoughts.

Imitation pleases, because it affords matter for inquiring into the truth or falsehood of imitation, by comparing its likeness or unlikeness with the original.

Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.