Follow love and it will flee, flee love and it will follow thee.
Look round, the wrecks of play behold; Estates dismember'd, mortgaged, sold! Their owners now to jails confin'd, Show equal poverty of mind.
Fair words cost nothing.
Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them!
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.