While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.

Act well your part, there all the honour lies.

A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.

I was not born for courts and great affairs, but I pay my debts, believe and say my prayers.

A field of glory is a field for all.

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.

Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty; it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would improve.