War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.

When nations are to perish in their sins, 'tis in the Church the leprosy begins.

If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.

Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, attain not to the dignity of thought.

The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.