Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, the mere materials with which wisdom builds, till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much; wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Spare feast! a radish and an egg.
Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own disgrace?
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.