No Craving Void Left Aching In The

Let Fortune Do Her Worst, Whatever She Makes Us Lose, So Long As She Never Makes Us Lose Our Honesty And Our Independence.

No, Make Me Mistress To The Man I Love; If There Be Yet Another Name More Free More Fond Than Mistress, Make Me That To Thee!

Heaven Breathes Thro' Ev'ry Member Of The Whole One Common Blessing, As One Common Soul.

Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not Half So Useful As Common Sense. There Are Forty Men Of Wit For One Man Of Sense; And He That Will Carry Nothing About Him But Gold, Will Be Every Day At A Loss For Want Of Readier Change.

For Critics, As They Are Birds Of Prey, Have Ever A Natural Inclination To Carrion.