Wretches Hang That Jurymen May Dine.

O Happiness! Our Being's End And Aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! Whate'er Thy Name: That Something Still Which Prompts The Eternal Sigh, For Which We Bear To Live, Or Dare To Die.

What Nature Wants, Commodious Gold Bestows; 'tis Thus We Cut The Bread Another Sows.

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Of Darkness Visible So Much Be Lent, As Half To Show, Half Veil, The Deep Intent.

Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife.