When talent fails, indignation writes the verse.
Lost money is bewailed with deeper sighs Than friends, or kindred, and with louder cries.
The sweetest pleasures soonest cloy, And its best flavour temperance gives to joy.
Be a gentleman farmer.
An undying hatred, and a wound never to be healed.
An excess of hoarded wealth is the death of many.
We do not commonly find men of superior sense amongst those of the highest fortune.
The thirst after fame is greater than that after virtue; for who embraces virtue if you take away its rewards?
Virture offers the only path in this life that leads to tranquility.
Rarely do we meet in one combined, a beauteous body and a virtuous mind.
The man whose purse is empty can cheerfully sing before the robber.
Nature and wisdom always say the same.
The care of a large estate is an unpleasant thing.
Death alone discloses how insignificant are the puny bodies of men.
Let him love none and be by none beloved!
Have the courage to do something which deserves transportation if you want to be somebody.
Few tyrants go down to the infernal regions by a natural death.
Drooping along the ground the vine misses its widowed elm.
Conscience, the executioner, shaking her secret scourge.
But with what incessant and grievous ills is old age surrounded!