Fortune, the great commandress of the world, Hath divers ways to advance her followers: To some she gives honor without deserving; To other some, deserving without honor; Some wit, some wealth,--and some, wit without wealth; Some wealth without wit; some nor wit nor wealth.

They're only truly great who are truly good.

Ignorance is the mother of admiration.

We inherit nothing truly, but what our actions make us worthy of.

Perfect happiness, by princes sought, Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought.

Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea Loves t'have his sails filled with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his ship run on her side so low That she drinks water, and her keel plows air.

There is a nick in Fortune's restless wheel For each man's good.