How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot A heap of dust alone remains of thee 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
I believe it is no wrong Observation, that Persons of Genius, and those who are most capable of Art, are always fond of Nature, as such are chiefly sensible, that all Art consists in the Imitation and Study of Nature. On the contrary, People of the common Level of Understanding are principally delighted with the Little Niceties and Fantastical Operations of Art, and constantly think that finest which is least Natural.
I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
If a man's character is to be abused there's nobody like a relative to do the business.
Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart To act a lover's or a Roman's part? Is there no bright reversion in the sky, For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
It is with our judgments as with our watches: no two go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Judge not of actions by their mere effect; Dive to the center, and the cause detect. Great deeds from meanest springs may take their course, And smallest virtues from a mighty source.
Know then this truth, enough for man to know virtue alone is happiness below.
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan The proper study of mankind is man.
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan, The proper study of mankind is man.