Faith is to believe what you do not yet see: the reward for this faith is to see what you believe. Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.
Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
Love and Time with reverence use, Treat them like a parting friend: Nor the golden gifts refuse Which in youth sincere they send: For each year their price is more, And they less simple than before.
An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own; And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.
Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense, But good men starve for want of impudence.
Truth is never to be expected from authors whose understanding is warped with enthusiasm.
Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes... Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
He look'd in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.
Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections.
For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.
Presence of mind and courage in distress, Are more than arrives to procure success?
Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.
Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end; whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.
Sure there's contagion in the tears of friends.
Few know the use of life before 'tis past.
Mighty things from small beginnings grow.
Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.
Love is love's reward.
A happy genius is the gift of nature.
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