Interest makes all seem reason that leads to it.

If by the people you understand the multitude, the hoi polloi, 'tis no matter what they think; they are sometimes in the right, sometimes in the wrong; their judgment is a mere lottery.

Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.

Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.

I feel my sinews slackened with the fright, and a cold sweat trills down all over my limbs, as if I were dissolving into water.

They say everything in the world is good for something.

When bounteous autumn rears her head, he joys to pull the ripened pear.