- A wise man poor Is like a sacred book that 's never read,- To himself he lives, and to all else seems dead. This age thinks better of a gilded fool Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school.
- And though mine arm should conquer twenty worlds, There 's a lean fellow beats all conquerors.
- To add to golden numbers golden numbers.
- Honest labour bears a lovely face.
- The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer; A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breathed.
- I was ne'er so thrummed since I was a gentleman.
- This principle is old, but true as fate,- Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate.
- We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.
- Turn over a new leaf.
- Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet content! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd? O punishment!