Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, But looked to near, have neither heat nor light.
The soul was never put in the body to stand still.
Sorrow is held the eldest child of sin.
For the subtlest folly proceeds from the subtlest wisdom.
That friend a great man's ruin strongly checks, who rails into his belief all his defects.
Were there no heaven nor hell I should be honest.