Be prepared to go mad with fixed rule and method.

I have reared a memorial more enduring than brass, and loftier than the regal structure of the pyramids, which neither the corroding shower nor the powerless north wind can destroy; no, not even unending years nor the flight of time itself. I shall not entirely die. The greater part of me shall escape oblivion.

Every old poem is sacred.

Drawing is the true test of art.

I praise her (Fortune) while she lasts; if she shakes her quick wings, I resign what she has given, and take refuge in my own virtue, and seek honest undowered Poverty.

Strength, wanting judgment and policy to rule, overturneth itself.

By heaven you have destroyed me, my friends!