Hope, like the gleaming taper

Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land.

In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stagecoach.

Our Garrick 's a salad; for in him we see Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree!

Error is ever talkative.

What real good does an addition to a fortune already sufficient procure? Not any. Could the great man, by having his fortune increased, increase also his appetites, then precedence might be attended with real amusement.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.