Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocott’s Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.


Still to ourselves in every place consign’d,
Our own felicity we make or find.
Goldsmith.—The Traveller, Line 431.

Since every man who lives is born to die,
And none can boast sincere felicity,
With equal minds what happens let us bear,
Nor joy, nor grieve too much for things beyond our care.
Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend;
The world’s an inn, and death the journey’s end.
Dryden.—Palemon and Arcite, Book III. Line 883.