Great wits are sure to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
For they can conquer who believe they can.
But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.