| Quotes |
Topic |
| Wonders | Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there. |
| Worth | Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow, The rest is all but leather and prunello. |
| Zeal | Zeal then, not charity, became the guide. |
| Zeal | I have more zeal than wit. |
| Zeal | Poets heap virtues, painters gems, at will, And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill. |
| Zeal | Zeal is very blind, or badly regulated, when it encroaches upon the rights of others. |
| Zephyrs | Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows. |
| Zephyrs | Lull'd by soft zephyrs thro' the broken pane. |
| Zephyrs | And soften'd sounds along the waters die, Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play. |
| Zephyrs | Soft o'er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe, That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath. |
| Zephyrs | The balmy zephyrs, silent since her death, Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath. |
| Curiosity | One who is too wise an observer of the business of others, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity. |
| Disease | As man, perhaps, the moment of his breath, Receives the lurking principle of death, The younger disease, that must subdue at length, Grows with his growth, and strengthens with his strength. |
| Disease | But just disease to luxury succeeds, And ev'ry death its own avenger breeds. |
| Dogs | I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you? |
| Dogs | To be, contents his natural desire, He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company. Go wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense Weigh thy opinion against Providence. |
| Dogs | Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends. |
| Doubt | The doubtful beam long nods from side to side. |
| Doves | Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky; Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling doves. |
| Eagles | And little eagles wave their wings in gold. |
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