When a virtuous man is raised, it brings gladness to his friends, grief to his enemies, and glory to his posterity.

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

To men pressed by their wants all change is ever welcome.

Love that is ignorant and hatred have almost the same ends.

Truth is man's proper good, and the only immortal thing was given to our mortality to use.

Tis the common disease of all your musicians that they know no mean, to be entreated, either to begin or end.

He that would have his virtue published, is not the servant of virtue, but glory.