They, Who Know No Evil, Will Suspect

Heaven Prepares Good Men With Crosses; But No Ill Can Happen To A Good Man.

That Praises Are Without Reason Lavished On The Dead, And That The Honours Due Only To Are Paid To Antiquity, Is A Complaint Likely To Be Always Continued By Those Who, Being Able To Add Nothing To Truth, Hope For Eminence From The Heresies Of Paradox; Or Those Who, Being Forced By Disappointment Upon Consolatory Expedients, Are Willing To Hope From Posterity What The Present Age Refuses, And Flatter Themselves That The Regard Which Is Yet Denied By Envy Will Be At Last Bestowed By Time.

Soul Of The Age! The Applause! Delight! The Wonder Of Our Stage!

Drink Today, And Drown All Sorrow; You Shall Perhaps Not Do It Tomorrow; Best, While You Have It, Use Your Breath; There Is No Drinking After Death.

Great Honours Are Great Burdens, But On Whom They Are Cast With Envy, He Doth Bear Two Loads.