Beauties that from worth arise are like the grace of deities.

Success is a rare paint, hides all the ugliness.

But as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own, So in our very judgments.

Tis love in love that makes the sport.

Tis not the meat, but 'tis the appetite makes eating a delight.

'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear.

A quiet mediocrity is still to be preferred before a troubled superfluity.