To the last moment of his breath On hope the wretch relies; And e'en the pang preceding death Bids expectation rise. - Oliver Goldsmith

When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away?

Men may be very learned, and yet very miserable; it is easy to be a deep geometrician, or a sublime astronomer, but very difficult to be a good man. I esteem, therefore, the traveller who instructs the heart, but despise him who only indulges the imagination. A man who leaves home to mend himself and others, is a philosopher; but he who goes from country to country, guided by the blind impulse of curiosity, is only a vagabond.

Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.