Who hath not heard the rich complain Of surfeits, and corporeal pain? He barr'd from every use of wealth, Envies the ploughman's strength and health.
Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
Envy is a kind of praise.
[Gulliver was soon being read] "from the cabinet council to the nursery".
But his kiss was so sweet, and so closely he pressed, that I languished and pined till I granted the rest.
A man is always afraid of a woman that loves him too much