Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul

We are all a part of every person we have ever met.

Oh for someone with a heart, head and hand. Whatever they call them, what do I care, aristocrat, democrat, autocrat, just be it one that can rule and dare not lie.

Too much wit makes the world rotten.

Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.

Virtue must shape itself in deed.