Come, Death, and snatch me from disgrace.

Fortune is said to be blind, but her favorites never are. Ambition has the eye of the eagle, prudence that of the lynx; the first looks through the air, the last along the ground.

No reproach is like that we clothe in a smile, and present with a bow.

Enthusiasm is the genius of sincerity and truth accomplishes no victories without it

More bounteous run rivers when the ice that locked their flow melts into their waters. And when fine natures relent, their kindness is swelled by the thaw.

It is often the easiest move that completes the game. Fortune is like the lady whom a lover carried off from all his rivals by putting an additional lace upon his liveries.

Invention is nothing more than a fine deviation from, or enlargement on a fine model . . .