These are the effects of doting age,--vain doubts and idle cares and over caution.

Men met each other with erected look, The steps were higher that they took; Friends to congratulate their friends made haste, And long inveterate foes saluted as they pass'd.

If you are for a merry jaunt, I will try, for once, who can foot it farthest.

But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.

Seek not to know what must not be reveal, for joy only flows where fate is most concealed. A busy person would find their sorrows much more; if future fortunes were known before!

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.

Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.