Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.
He who would pry behind the scenes oft sees a counterfeit.
He wants worth who dares not praise a foe.
There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know.
Not Heav'n itself upon the past has pow'r; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.