In misery's darkest cavern known, His useful care was ever nigh Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, And lonely want retir'd to die.
Life is a progress from want to want, not from enjoyment to enjoyment.
Misery and shame are nearly allied.
Liberty is, to the lowest rank of every nation, little more than the choice of working or starving.
Pain is less subject than pleasure to careless expression.
Riches, perhaps, do not so often produce crimes as incite accusers.