Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.
False happiness is like false money; it passes for a long time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.
Amusement is the happiness of those who cannot think.
To err is human; to forgive, divine.
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.