There Is A Proud Modesty In Merit.

Happy, Happy, Happy Pair! None But The Brave Deserves The Fair.

Let Fortune Empty Her Whole Quiver On Me, I Have A Soul That, Like An Ample Shield, Can Take In All, And Verge Enough For More; Fate Was Not Mine, Nor Am I Fate's: Souls Know No Conquerors.

With How Much Ease Believe We What We Wish!

The Poorest Of The Sex Have Still An Itch To Know Their Fortunes, Equal To The Rich. The Dairy-maid Inquires, If She Shall Take The Trusty Tailor, And The Cook Forsake.

I Never Saw Any Good That Came Of Telling Truth.