Fortune, Thou Hadst No Deity, If Men

How Fortune Piles Her Sports When She Begins To Practise Them!

The Poet Is The Nearest Borderer Upon The Orator.

Greatness Of Name, In The Father, Ofttimes Helps Not Forth, But Overwhelms The Son: They Stand Too Near One Another. The Shadow Kills The Growth.

Books Are Faithful Repositories, Which May Be Awhile Neglected Or Forgotten, But When They Are Opened Again, Will Again Impart Their Instruction.

Tell Troth And Shame The Devil.