"How blessings brighten as they take their flight."
"Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world."
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Source: 'The Complaint: Night Thoughts' (1742-5) 'Night 1' l. 18
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"Too low they build who build below the skies."
"Narcissus is the glory of his race: For who does nothing with a better grace?."
"A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs."
"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!"
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