For Style Beyond The Genius Never Dares.

Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our Dreaming. Oh, That We May Be Allowed To Wake Before Death Wakes Us.

An Equal Doom Clipp'd Time's Blest Wings Of Peace.

I Looked Back At The Summit Of The Mountain, Which Seemed But A Cubit High In Comparison With The Height Of Human Contemplation, Were In Not Too Often Merged In The Corruptions Of The Earth.

Nothing Mortal Is Enduring, And There Is Nothing Sweet Which Does Not Presently End In Bitterness.

Man Has No Greater Enemy Than Himself. I Have Acted Contrary To My Sentiments And Inclination; Throughout Our Whole Lives We Do What We Never Intended, And What We Proposed To Do, We Leave Undone.