If we from wealth to poverty descend, Want gives to know the flatterer from the friend.
My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public; and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.
He who trusts a secret to his servant makes his own man his master.
Maintain your post: That's all the fame you need; For 'tis impossible you should proceed.
Discover the opinion of your enemies, which is commonly the truest; for they will give you no quarter, and allow nothing to complaisance.
To breed up the son to common sense is evermore the parent's least expense.
A lively faith will bear aloft the mind, and leave the luggage of good works behind.
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend; The World's an Inn, and Death the journey's end.
Democracy is essentially anti-authoritarian--that is, it not only demands the right but imposes the responsibility of thinking for ourselves.
Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.
But 'tis the talent of our English nation, Still to be plotting some new reformation.
Thou strong seducer, Opportunity!
Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
Humility and resignation are our prime virtues.
Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
Death only this mysterious truth unfolds, The mighty soul how small a body holds.
He made all countries where he came his own.
An ugly woman in a rich habit set out with jewels nothing can become.
How easy 'tis, when Destiny proves kind, With full-spread sails to run before the wind!
Interest makes all seem reason that leads to it.
Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain. Bachus's blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
Fortune confounds the wise, And when they least expect it turns the dice.
The winds that never moderation knew, Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew; Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
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