There is no vice which mankind carries to such wild extremes as that of avarice.
I row after health like a waterman.
Where Young must torture his invention To flatter knaves, or lose his pension.
Pray steal me not, I'm Mrs. Dingley's, Whose heart in this four-footed thing lies.
One enemy can do more hurt than ten friends can do good.
It is in men as in soils where sometimes there is a vein of gold which the owner knows not.