Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
When bounteous autumn rears her head, he joys to pull the ripened pear.
Virtue without success is a fair picture shown by an ill light; but lucky men are favorites of heaven; all own the chief, when fortune owns the cause.
Good sense and good nature are never separated; and good nature is the product of right reason.
Words are but pictures of our thoughts.