All delays are dangerous in war.
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
Raw in the fields the rude militia swarms, Mouth without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence.
He is a perpetual fountain of good sense.
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
Dancing is the poetry of the foot.