Thou hast had thty day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old warhorse turned out on the barren heath; thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them.

Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.

Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion.

Hurry no man's cattle; you may come to own a donkey yourself

If you once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, it is all over. Bolt up at once.

Ridicule, the weapon of all others most feared by enthusiasts of every description, and which from its predominance over such minds, often checks what is absurd, and fully as often smothers that which is noble.

We are like the herb which flourisheth most when it is most trampled on.