Chapter 71 of 399 · 372 words · ~2 min read

Book ii

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The world 's a bubble, and the life of man Less than a span.[170-2]

_The World._

Who then to frail mortality shall trust But limns on water, or but writes in dust.

_The World._

What then remains but that we still should cry For being born, and, being born, to die?[170-3]

_The World._

For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, to foreign nations, and to the next ages.

_From his Will._

My Lord St. Albans said that Nature did never put her precious jewels into a garret four stories high, and therefore that exceeding tall men had ever very empty heads.[170-4]

_Apothegms. No. 17._

Like the strawberry wives, that laid two or three great strawberries at the mouth of their pot, and all the rest were little ones.[171-1]

_Apothegms. No. 54._

Sir Henry Wotton used to say that critics are like brushers of noblemen's clothes.

_Apothegms. No. 64._

Sir Amice Pawlet, when he saw too much haste made in any matter, was wont to say, "Stay a while, that we may make an end the sooner."

_Apothegms. No. 76._

Alonso of Aragon was wont to say in commendation of age, that age appears to be best in four things,--old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.[171-2]

_Apothegms. No. 97._

Pyrrhus, when his friends congratulated to him his victory over the Romans under Fabricius, but with great slaughter of his own side, said to them, "Yes; but if we have such another victory, we are undone."[171-3]

_Apothegms. No. 193._

Cosmus, Duke of Florence, was wont to say of perfidious friends, that "We read that we ought to forgive our enemies; but we do not read that we ought to forgive our friends."

_Apothegms. No. 206._

Cato said the best way to keep good acts in memory was to refresh them with new.

_Apothegms. No. 247._

FOOTNOTES:

[165-1] As aromatic plants bestow No spicy fragrance while they grow; But crushed or trodden to the ground, Diffuse their balmy sweets around.

GOLDSMITH: _The Captivity, act i._

The good are better made by ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still.

ROGERS: _Jacqueline, stanza 3._

[165-2] BURTON (quoted): _Anatomy of Melancholy,