Virtue Were A Kind Of Misery If

Truth And Fidelity Are The Pillars Of The Temple Of The World; When These Are Broken, The Fabric Falls, And Crushes All To Pieces.

Arrogance Is A Weed Which Grows Upon A Dunghill; It Is From The Rankness Of The Soil That She Has Her Height And Spreadings: Witness, Clowns, Fools, And Fellows, Who From Nothing, Are Lifted Up Some Few Steps On Fortune's Ladder: Where, Seeing The Glorious Representment Of Honour Above Them, They Are So Eager To Embrace It, That They Strive To Leap Thither At Once, And By Over-reaching Themselves In The Way, They Fail Of The End, And Fall.

Meditation Is The Soul's Perspective Glass.

Any Man Shall Speak The Better When He Knows What Others Have Said, And Sometimes The Consciousness Of His Inward Knowledge Gives A Confidence To His Outward Behavior, Which Of All Other Is The Best Thing To Grace A Man In His Carriage.

Virtue Were A Kind Of Misery If Fame Were All The Garland That Crowned Her.