If All Were Rich, Gold Would Be

Remember That Thy Heart Will Shed Its Pleasures As Thine Eye Its Tears, And Both Leave Loathsome Furrows.

He Is A Fool Who Is Not For Love And Beauty. I Speak Unto The Young, For I Am Of Them And Always Shall Be.

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.

Where Imperfection Ceaseth, Heaven Begins.

Fulfill Thy Fate! Be-do-bear-and Thank God.