Not to ask is not be denied.

Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.

The province of the soul is large enough to fill up every cranny of your time, and leave you much to answer for if one wretch be damned by your neglect.

All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.

Rhyme is the rock on which thou art to wreck.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

War is a trade of kings.