The Ambitious Are Forever Followed By Adulation

Both Wit And Understanding Are Trifles Without Integrity.

No One But A Fool Would Measure Their Satisfaction By What The World Thinks Of It.

Thou Source Of All My Bliss And All My Woe, That Found'st Me Poor At First, And Keep'st Me So.

All Is Not Gold That Glitters, Pleasure Seems Sweet, But Proves A Glass Of Bitters

O Friendship! Thou Fond Soother Of The Human Breast, To Thee We Fly In Every Calamity; To Thee The Wretched Seek For Succor; On Thee The Care-tired Son Of Misery Fondly Relies; From Thy Kind Assistance The Unfortunate Always Hopes Relief, And May Be Sure Of--disappointment.