Life is an incurable disease.
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that ... I might be master at last of a small house and a large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life to the culture of them and the study of nature.
Gold begets in brethren hate; Gold in families debate; Gold does friendship separate; Gold does civil wars create.
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government; the liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country.
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.
Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
The present is an eternal now.
There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
"We may talk what we please," he cries in his enthusiasm for the oldest of the arts, "of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles, in fields d'or or d'argent; but, if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms."
A mighty pain to love it is,
And 'tis a pain that pain to miss;
But, of all pains, the greatest pain
Is to love, but love in vain.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.
Curs'd be that wretch (Death's factor sure) who brought Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught Smiths (who before could only make The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man's left to epitomize!
The world's a scene of changes.
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.
Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
To-day is ours; what do we fear?
To-day is ours; we have it here.
Let's treat it kindly, that it may
Wish, at least, with us to stay.
Let's banish business, banish sorrow;
To the gods belong to-morrow.
All this world's noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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