What pity is it That we can die, but once to serve our country.
Man is the merriest species of the creation; all above or below him are serious.
Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought.
The pride of woman, natural to her, never sleeps until modesty is gone.
I shall endeavour to enliven Morality with Wit, and to temper Wit with Morality, that my Readers may, if possible, both Ways findtheir Account in the Speculation of the Day.
A good conscience is to the soul what health is to the body; it preserves constant ease and serenity within us; and more than countervails all the calamities and afflictions which can befall us from without.