Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys,And eagerly pursues imaginary joys.
The man forget not, though in rags he lies,And know the mortal through a crown's disguise.
For the maintenance of peace, nations should avoid the pin-pricks which forerun cannon-shots.
And many strokes, though with a little axe,Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
Little drops of water, little grains of sandMake the mighty ocean, and the pleasant land.
At every trifle scorn to take offence;That always shows great pride or little sense.
He that despiseth small things will perish by little and little.
These little things are great to little man.
The soft droppes of raine perce the hard Marble, many strokes overthrow the tallest Oke.
What dire offence from amorous causes springs,What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
Trifles, light as air.
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