Because all men are apt to flatter themselves, to entertain the addition of other men's praises is most perilous.

Give my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Our bodies are but the anvils of pain and disease and our minds the hives of unnumbered cares.

... but the longest day hath its evening.

Prevention is the daughter of intelligence.

In a letter to a friend the thought is often unimportant, and the feeling, if it be only a desire to entertain him, every thing.

Better it were not to live than to live a coward.