Solitude, The Sly Enemy That Doth Separate

True Bravery Is Quiet, Undemonstrative.

It Depends On Education--that Holder Of The Keys Which The Almighty Hath Put Into Our Hands--to Open The Gates Which Lead To Virtue Or To Vice, To Happiness Or Misery.

There Is A Certain Delicacy Which In Yielding Conquers; And With A Pitiful Look Makes One Find Cause To Crave Help One's Self.

God Has Appointed Us Captains Of This Our Bodily Fort, Which, Without Treason To That Majesty, Are Never To Be Delivered Over Till They Are Demanded.

Nature Never Set Forth The Earth In So Rich Tapestry As Divers Poets Have Done; Neither With Pleasant Rivers, Fruitful Trees, Sweet-smelling Flowers, Nor Whatsoever Else May Make The Too-much-loved Earth More Lovely; Her World Is Brazen, The Poets Only Deliver A Golden.