An Englishman fears contempt more than death.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,- A cap by night, a stocking all the day.

There are some faults so nearly allied to excellence that we can scarce weed out the vice without eradicating the virtue.

To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

If you were to make little fishes talk, they would talk like whales.

Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man.

The mind is ever ingenious in making its own distress.