At Every Trifle Take Offense, That Always

Be Niggards Of Advice On No Pretense; For The Worst Avarice Is That Of Sense.

So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.

Wise Wretch! With Pleasures Too Refined To Please, With Too Much Spirit To Be E'er At Ease, With Too Much Quickness Ever To Be Taught, With Too Much Thinking To Have Common Thought: You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give, And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

What Is Fame? A Fancied Life In Others' Breath.

What Will A Child Learn Sooner Than A Song?