It is the highest of earthly honors to be descended from the great and good. They alone cry out against a noble ancestry who have none of their own.

Memory, of all the powers of the mind, is the most delicate and frail.

Minds that are great and free, should not on fortune pause: 'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause.

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine.

Reader look, not on his picture but his book.

And where she went, the flowers took thickest root, As she had sow'd them with her odorous foot.

Now we are all fallen, youth from their fear, And age from that which bred it, good example.