Sickness is poor-spirited, and cannot serve anyone; it must husband its resources to live. But health or fullness answers its own ends, and has to spare, runs over, and inundates the neighborhoods and creeks of other men's necessities.

First be a good animal.

Of cheerfulness, or a good temper - the more it is spent, the more of it remains.

Every stoic was a stoic; but in Christendom where is the Christian?

For it is not metres, but a metre-making argument that makes a poem.

The beautiful is never plentiful.

The things we now esteem fixed shall, one by one, detach themselves, like ripe fruit, from our experience, and fall. The wind shall blow them none knows whither.