Good Men But See Death, The Wicked

He Who Is Taught Only By Himself Has A Fool For A Master.

Folly Often Goes Beyond Her Bounds, But Impudence Knows None.

I See Compassion May Become A Justice, Though It Be A Weakness, I Confess, And Nearer A Vice Than A Virtue.

Wine It Is The Milk Of Venus, And The Poet's Horse Accounted: Ply It And You All Are Mounted.

Soul Of The Age! The Applause! Delight! The Wonder Of Our Stage!