This only grant me, that my means may lie too low for envy, for contempt too high.
Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends not on the number, but the choice of friends.
A mighty pain to love it is, and 'tis a pain that pain to miss; but of all pains, the greatest pain it is to love, but love in vain.
Hope! of all ills that men endure The only cheap and universal cure.
Hope! Of all the ills that men endure, the only cheap and universal cure.
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.
But what is woman? Only one of nature's agreeable blunders.
A mighty pain to love it is, And 't is a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain.
Life is an incurable disease.
Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
