But always think the last opinion right. - Alexander Pope

Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labor when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.

Las palabras son como las hojas; cuando abundan, poco fruto hay entre ellas.

What then remains, but well our power to use,
And keep good humour still whate’er we lose?
And trust me, dear, good humour can prevail,
When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll;
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul