Rhyme is the rock on which thou art to wreck.

For my part, I can compare her (a gossip) to nothing but the sun; for, like him, she knows no rest, nor ever sets in one place but to rise in another.

Zeal, the blind conductor of the will.

Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.

There is a proud modesty in merit.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.