Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.
Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing.