How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.
The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
A noisy man is always in the right.