Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind.

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

Be not affronted at a joke. If one throw salt at thee, thou wilt receive no harm, unless thou art raw.

Politics resemble religion; attempting to divest either of ceremony is the most certain mode of bringing either into contempt.

The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found, at last, to be of our own producing.

The soul may be compared to a field of battle, where the armies are ready every moment to encounter. Not a single vice but has a more powerful opponent, and not one virtue but may be overborne by a combination of vices.

So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.