Glory, Built On Selfish Principles, Is Shame

All Truth Is Precious, If Not All Divine; And What Dilates The Powers Must Needs Refine.

Our Love Is Principle, And Has Its Root In Reason, Is Judicious, Manly, Free.

I Will Venture To Assert, That A Just Translation Of Any Ancient Poet In Rhyme Is Impossible. No Human Ingenuity Can Be Equal To The Task Of Closing Every Couplet With Sounds Homotonous, Expressing At The Same Time The Full Sense, And Only The Full Sense Of His Original.

Could He With Reason Murmur At His Case, Himself Sole Author Of His Own Disgrace?

Habits Are Soon Assumed; But When We Strive To Strip Them Off, 'tis Being Flayed Alive.