“Beware of flattery! 'tis a flowery weed,
Which oft offends the very idol-vice,
Whose shrine it would perfume.”

“In shrines dwell robbers,
in idol-houses, thugs.
In mosques live vagabonds,
the lovers of God remaind aloof.”

“Beware of knowing your virtues; you may lose them. Beware of knowing your vices; you may forgive them.”

“Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power and hapless love!
Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more;
Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine!”

“What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have yet to be discovered.”

“The friendships of the world are oft
Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure;
Ours has severest virtue for its basis,
And such a friendship ends not but with life.”

“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”

“Vices have been put in a house whose key is lies.”

“Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.”

“Religion acts as a moral gardener, to weed out, or suppress, evil tendencies, which, like weeds: grow.”