Music, among those who were styled the chosen people, was a religious art.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!

Content thyself to be obscurely good. When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, the post of honoris a private station.

Antidotes are what you take to prevent dotes.

There is no society or conversation to be kept up in the world without good-nature, or something which must bear its appearance and supply its place. For this reason mankind have been forced to invent a kind of artificial humanity, which is what we express by the word Good-Breeding.

The first race of mankind used to dispute, as our ordinary people do now-a-days, in a kind of wild logic, uncultivated by rule of art.

My voice is still for war.