When bounteous autumn rears her head, he joys to pull the ripened pear.
She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.
Mighty things from small beginnings grow.
Good sense and good nature are never separated; and good nature is the product of right reason.
Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
Death ends our woes, and the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene.