Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view.

I cannot raise my worth too high; Of what vast consequence am I! "Not of the importance you suppose," Replies a Flea upon his nose; "Be humble, learn thyself to scan; Know, pride was never made for man.

Envy is a kind of praise.

Thus shadow owes its birth to light.

Whoever heard a man of fortune in England talk of the necessaries of life? . . . Whether we can afford it or no, we must have superfluities.

Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.

Variety's the source of joy below, From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow, In books and love the mind one end pursues, And only change the expiring flames renews.