There Is A Proud Modesty In Merit.

One Cannot Say He Wanted Wit, But Rather That He Was Frugal Of It.

Softly Sweet, In Lydian Measures, Soon He Sooth'd His Soul To Pleasures. War, He Sung, Is Toil And Trouble; Honour But An Empty Bubble; Never Ending, Still Beginning, Fighting Still, And Still Destroying. If All The World Be Worth The Winning, Think, Oh Think It Worth Enjoying: Lovely Thais Sits Beside Thee, Take The Good The Gods Provide Thee.

My Whole Life Has Been A Golden Dream Of Love And Friendship.

All Empire Is No More Than Power In Trust.

The Fates But Only Spin The Coarser Clue; The Finest Of The Wool Is Left For You.