Whose lenient sorrows find relief, whose joys are chastened by their grief.

Without courage there cannot be truth, and without truth there can be no other virtue.

Teach self-denial and make its practice pleasure, and you can create for the world a destiny more sublime that ever issued from the brain of the wildest dreamer.

'Tis an old tale, and often told; But did my fate and wish agree, Ne'er had been read, in story old, Of maiden true betray'd for gold, That loved, or was avenged, like me!

Honour is a homicide and a bloodspiller, that gangs about making frays in the street; but Credit is a decent honest man, that sits at hame and makes the pat play.

But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men.

Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.