Commend Me To Sterling Honesty Though Clad

Call It Not Vain: They Do Not Err Who Say That When The Poet Dies Mute Nature Mourns Her Worshipper, And Celebrates His Obsequies.

The Man Who Is Deserving The Name Is The One Whose Thoughts And Exertions Are For Others Rather Than For Himself.

Mankind — The Race Would Perish Did They Cease To Aid Each Other.

For He That Does Good, Having The Unlimited Power To Do Evil, Deserves Praise Not Only For The Good Which He Performs, But For The Evil Which He Forbears.

Each Age Has Deemed The New-born Year The Fittest Time For Festal Cheer.