Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me.
Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
Virtuous and vicious every man must be, few in the extreme, but all in the degree.
Though triumphs were to generals only due, crowns were reserved to grace the soldiers too.
Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.