Creation's Heir, The World, The World Is

The Bashful Virgin's Sidelong Looks Of Love.

The World Is Like A Vast Sea: Mankind Like A Vessel Sailing On Its Tempestuous Bosom. ... [t]he Sciences Serve Us For Oars.

Our Pleasures Are Short, And Can Only Charm At Intervals; Love Is A Method Of Protraction Our Greatest Pleasure.

Blest Be That Spot, Where Cheerful Guests Retire To Pause From Toil, And Trim Their Evening Fire; Blest That Abode, Where Want And Pain Repair, And Every Stranger Finds A Ready Chair Blest Be Those Feasts With Simple Plenty Crown'd, Where All The Ruddy Family Around Laugh At The Jest Or Pranks, That Never Fail, Or Sigh With Pity At Some Mournful Tale, Or Press The Bashful Stranger To His Food, And Learn The Luxury Of Doing Good.

The Work Of Eradicating Crimes Is Not By Making Punishment Familiar, But Formidable.