Authority without wisdom is like a heavy ax without an edge -- fitter to bruise than polish.

Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue/ Who says my hand a needle better fits./ A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong/ For such despite they cast on female wits;/ If what I do prove well, it won't advance,/ They'll say it's stolen, or else, it was by chance.

The stones and trees, insensible to time, / Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen; / If Winter come, and greenness then do fade / A Spring returns, and they more youthful made; / But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.

If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

Authority without wisdom is like a heavy ax without an edge -- fitter to bruise than polish.

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.