Mortifications are often more painful than real calamities.

Where wealth and freedom reign contentment fails, And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.

Quality and title have such allurements that hundreds are ready to give up all their own importance, to cringe, to flatter, to look little, and to pall every pleasure in constraint, merely to be among the great, though without the least hopes of improving their understanding or sharing their generosity. They might be happier among their equals.

Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives.

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

If you don't ask me questions, I can't give you an untrue answer.