If you are for a merry jaunt, I will try, for once, who can foot it farthest.

Whatever is, is in its causes just.

He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.

Pleasure never comes sincere to man; but lent by heaven upon hard usury.

Imitators are but a servile kind of cattle.

But wild Ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.

I never saw any good that came of telling truth.