Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.
Praise undeserved, is satire in disguise.
But Satan now is wiser than of yore, and tempts by making rich, not making poor.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
An excuse is worse than a lie, for an excuse is a lie, guarded.
Health consists with temperance alone.
Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!
All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed, what oft was thought, but never so well expressed.
Be not the first by which a new thing is tried, or the last to lay the old aside.